


The core of you

by Inspirationfeedscreatiivity



Series: Love isn't always on time [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Clexa, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Finnark, Linctavia - Freeform, Princess Mechanic, bff au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 03:46:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 36,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4904362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inspirationfeedscreatiivity/pseuds/Inspirationfeedscreatiivity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It´s getting close to the D day. Raven is back in town and has no idea what she´s doing, Clarke is a bundle of nerves and caffeine (provided by Lexa), Octavia and Lincoln are playing happy family, Bellamy shoulders the role of big brother to them all and Finn is the mean drunk. </p><p>A wedding. Nothing more and nothing less.</p><p>What could possibly go wrong with that?</p><p>Mixed POV´s</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Friday

**Author's Note:**

> An enormous thank you to all of you that still follow this story, leaving kudos and commenting, it means the world!! - E
> 
> Title is from _The core of you_ \- Måns Zelmerlöw

_11:45am_

You wake to the of the smell of pancakes and the growling sound rumbling through your stomach. It's too early, you immediately think as you clench your eyes shut tighter. Whatever the time is, it's too early. You didn't really believe that jet-lag was a thing until last night, when you paced through the apartment trying to tire yourself out, but the restlessness didn't go away. Not until 5 am this morning when you were finally able to lay down without the feeling of your body being lit up with fire - yeah, you're not good with feeling restless.

Lincoln and Octavia filled you in on the plans for the day, which more or less concluded a dinner later tonight. Before that you were free to do whatever. Octavia had already gotten her dress, Lincoln's tuxedo was hung on the door of the wardrobe in the bedroom and since your dress fit it's hanging in the guest bedroom.

Some part of you can't really understand that you're back here, so soon.

It's been months, weeks spent over Skype and texting, just like it was before New Year's. Still, it feels like no time has passed. It's exhausting in itself to feel like that.

(When it comes down to it, you get this feeling because _they_ haven't changed. They are still the people you lean on when it gets to you. They haven't changed even a little bit.)

(And if it wasn't _their_ weekend, if they weren't the ones getting married, you would never have boarded that flight.)

After trying to find fall back to sleep, only to end up twisting and turning every few minutes, you get dressed. The smell is stronger the closer you get to the door and when you open it, it hits you like a wave. You slumber out if the guest room with a mouth watering and eyes almost completely glued together with sleep. You swear quietly when you take a wrong step and knock into the corner of the couch, at least it's your right knee, unfortunately it's your right knee and your no good with balancing on your bad one.

Lincoln turns at the disapproving sound the couch makes at your body falling over it for a second there. 

"Good morning, how's the jet lag?", he asks and turns back to the stove, his elbow moving every now and then indicates that he's still cooking something.

"How did you- who I'm a kidding of course you know. Did I make too much noise?", you answer as you walk up to the kitchen table. Your hand grasps the back of the closest chair as you yawn long enough for your lungs to begin to scream for air, however, they quiet down when you inhale slowly. You stable yourself on the left leg as you hold yourself up by the back of the chair and massages your right knee trying to get rid of the dull pain.

"No, don't worry. Your eyes are bloodshot and you have huge bags under them", Lincoln's voice is calm and low, like he knows better than to use any more volume than you can take in this state.

He's clever like that.

You stand back on both legs, biting down on that little groan that lingers on your tongue when a new pain shoots through your left leg. Sitting still for as long as you did yesterday on the plane is the worst thing you could ever do to your mobility. 

"Oh thank you. Way to make girl feel beautiful", you mumble tiredly as your other hand reaches up to rub the sleep out if your eyes as best it can.

"You're always beautiful, bloodshot eyes and all".

You hum back at him. Compliments don't really take when you feel like your head is about to explode, that is if it has time for it or if your body will combust into flames first. 

"Getting nervous yet?", you ask and he turns around. His hands are covered with flour and the same stains could be found on both his shirt and pants.

"I don't have anything to be nervous about. I'm getting married, not joining the army or something", he says with a shrugs with his shoulders.

"What's the difference? There's still a lifetime of service". Lincoln narrows his eyes with a far from amused look. "Kidding", you add with a cute little smile. He shakes his head and rubs his hands together in an attempt to get rid of some of that flour. It only results in clouds of flour washing off his hands. “What's with this rush anyway”. His eyes look up at you from his hands, but you're to tired to read them or even give it a try. Only, giving no answer is an answer as well. Lincoln is a man of words and not that many people can leave him speechless or tongue tied. Yet, he says nothing now. Which either means that he has an answer in mind but doesn't think you'd like to hear it, or, he's playing with you. 

You hope on the second.

(But you can't help yourself to think a little further.)

“Don't tell me… Lincoln?”, you ask with a serious tone and he looks up again, surprise in his eyes shaded by confusion, both of which are probably caused by that tone.

When he gets the actual question in your voice he's eyes widen. “God no! Are you kidding me? I wouldn´t”, he says and you breathe out what feels like the same volume of air you breathe in a year.

“Thank god!”.

He follows that up with words you'd like he kept to himself.

“We're protected”.

You look at him. He looks back at you, lips trembling trying to contain a very big and silly grin. You shake your head slowly and he bursts into a low laughter. 

“Okay, too much information”, you reply and he gets his hands up in the air, like telling you that he's done with his games. Still, there's an answer somewhere in him and you haven't gotten one yet. “But seriously, why don't you just wait until she's done with college and like know what you both want. I don't say that you won't want this then too, but things change. People change”.

He exhales with a whole other smile on his lips - the one he wears around Octavia. “I already know what I want. She does too”, he answers. “Some things you just know”.

(It's the best answer and the worst, because you understand what he means. _Completely_.)

“Yeah, unfortunately”, you agree with a whisper.

Your hand is uneasy as your nails dig into the wood of the chair.

Though, you don't get that much time to think of that before another voice reaches the two of you.

“Hey, you´re up”.

“Sure am”, you answer and without warning she pulls you into a warm embrace. You lean back against her chest and sigh quietly at the feeling. “For now, at least”.

“It´s better than nothing”, Lincoln replies and you feel Octavia nod against your shoulder.

“What are you doing today?”, you ask. She lets go off you, trails around your body to then jump up on the countertop next to the stove. She breaks off the corner of the newly fried pancake and flicks the piece into her mouth.

“Brunch with Bell”. You smack yourself on the side of your head lightly, bringing a little smile to the other girl's lips. Of course she was going out with Bellamy, she told you that last night in between the guest-list and the schedule for the big day.

“Okay, what are we doing today then?”, you ask and turn your eyes to Lincoln. You catch the smile on his lips before his eyes finds you.

One that wasn't directed at you.

“I reserved the couch just for you”.

You eye him for a moment, only for your body to almost collapse over itself in contentment and you lean almost fully on the chair. “I love you”, you exhale and Octavia´s laughter fills the kitchen.

He shrugs his shoulders as he turns his eyes back to the stove. “I thought you needed some peace and quiet”.

“Well, you're also in charge of preparing for tonight”, Octavia cuts in and you jerk your hand up to your forehead to salute her.

“Yes _sir_ ”.

She laughs at your stupidity and jumps down from the countertop. “Idiot”, she says with a shake of her head, but she's still wearing a cute smile as she leans up on her toes to kiss Lincoln briefly on the lips. “Bye, call me if there´s something”. Lincoln nods and receives another kiss.

“Bye, babe”, you teas with a wink and give her your cheek. She places a messy kiss on your cheek before squeezing your shoulder.

“Don´t have too much fun without me”, she tells you and you scoff. Lincoln´s back to shaking his head, probably at the two of you, with a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Not possible”, you yell back to her as she walks through the door. When the door sure is closed and you can no longer hear her steps through the hall outside the door, you give Lincoln a serious look. One he doesn't turn his head around to see. “You are one lucky guy”, you tell him and you think it's the fifth time since you got here yesterday that those words have left your tongue.

“I know”, he replies with the biggest grin ever as he flips the pancake cooking in the pan. It´s perfectly golden brown. Cooked to perfection and your stomach agrees with you, because it growls once again.

“Oh shut up and give me some of those”, you demand as you grab your plate.

\--

_1:29pm_

**K. Wick (1:05pm): Raven. We are getting ready to install the new system in the club. I do not want to push you, but I will need an answer at the end of next week**

You drop your phone with a sigh and let it fall to land somewhere in between the cushions of the couch. You didn't need a reminder, at all. It's not like you walk around all day, every day, thinking about it in the back of your head, evaluating every choice, weighing pros against cons, over and over again. No, it´s not like that _at all_. Just, it is. Since Wick made that offer to you and practically served you a permanent way out, you haven't thought of anything else. In the beginning you told yourself that you just needed one more day, just twenty four hours and then you´d give him an answer. Well, that one day turned into a week and without knowing it you stood at the gate, ready to board the flight. 

Time hasn´t been on your side lately.

Lincoln nudges your knee with his foot. “What are you thinking about?”.

He´s been watching you since you picked up your phone, you´ve felt his eyes on you, the big surprise is that he managed to keep his mouth shut for this long. You exhale heavily and sink even deeper down into the couch, leaning your head into your hand as it's propped up on the armrest.

“I don't know, Linc. So don't ask me”, you tell him.

Instead of listening to you, he turns in his seat to face you, eyes fixed at your face. He´s stubborn, almost as bad as you.

“Well, what are you thinking”, he asks and draws a sigh from you.

“I'm thinking that it´s a great opportunity and that I´ll probably never get one of these more than once”.

“Okay”. A couple of seconds go by and you think for a moment that he´s let it go. You're wrong. Suddenly the TV goes black and you look from it to him in confusion, he´s hand is still gripping the remote when your eyes find it. You take the hint and turn to face him too. Guess you win the one, you think as you position yourself so that you can lean your head in the other hand instead. Another set of seconds pass and you´re just waiting, while he´s watching you, searching your eyes for something you know for a fact that he won´t find. You´ve tried to find it yourself, but your reflection gives nothing away. “Why haven't you given him your answer?”, he finally asks.

You wonder how many time one can sigh before they automatically turn into a right arse.

“You know why”.

His brows furrow in that annoying ‘I'm not giving in’ kind of way. “I'm not sure I do”.

“You´re the one who made me _reconsider_ getting back into college”, you bite back with a little bit of anger to the tone.

He does know. He does know, because he was the one who made sure that _that_ thought never left your mind, even though it was hurting you. And you let him, because deep within yourself you know that you can't let go just like that.

“That's because I wanted you to stay grounded”, he replies with a mature voice.

“Stay grounded? When have I ever not been grounded?”, you ask and he shakes his head at your reaction. You'll blame this on the lack of sleep later. You can already hear the words leaving your lips and see the way Lincoln caves in a little, but it's all just a front, to then tell you that it´s okay, that it will all be okay.

(He doesn't know of the nightmares. Or the other dreams that keep you up at night.)

After a deep breath, held with your hands covering your face, you breathe out and let the anger follow it. He´s not the one to blame. Nothing is his fault. It´s all you. As usual. 

“I don't know yet and until I do, I can't give Wick an answer”.

“Let me ask you this”. You nod, maybe more to yourself than in reply to him. When your eyes find their way up to meet his, his are filled with love, the kind that makes your stomach sink deeper and your heart thumps even hard as if it's trying to remind you that you are in fact not lost, you are still here. With him. He leans in and places a warm hand on your right knee, you feel it sending warmth through your body when he squeezes his fingers, his big hand on your small knee. “What's stopping you from doing it? You love working with him. London is a great city. You´ve made a lot of friends and obviously those people have done something to you, because you´re a lot better now than what you were when you left”, he says and you nod after every statement. He´s right, he's so right it's ridiculous. From another perspective you probably look thick or straight up idiotic for dragging out this decision. Maybe you're both, yet, no, you´re really not. 

It´s just hard. 

You remember the time when you were eight and your mother asked you to choose - either going to your grandfather´s or Disneyland. Every other kid had probably made the decision on the spot, going with the one they'd never get to do again. You´ve never been like anyone else, not even as a stubborn eight year old. Definitely not. Your grandfather lived on a farm, one of those that had horses and farm animals running around, he was a farmer in his heart and soul.

(Which explains why your father dragged you out with him into wild, even though you were born and raised in the city, he tried his best to rub of some of that enthusiasm for the nature on you.)

(He never was as happy in the city as he was back home at that farm.) 

You loved that place, but what you loved even more about it than the animals and the place itself was the people. Your grandfather had taught himself how to play the guitar and together with some old friends he had started a band back in his teenage years, they never did anything with the music or even got the slightest of acknowledgment for it. Still, throughout the years they stuck together and once every now and then they used to get together and jam. _That_ was the reason why it made it such a hard decision. You wanted nothing more than to go to Disneyland, but spending a hour with your grandfather and his old buddies, surrounded by that music and passion, _that_ was worth much more than the temporary joy you'd get after a few rides on a roller coaster.

(When your grandfather passed away, it was the first time you felt real sorrow, but his music never died - it still lives in you and every time you use what he taught you about passion you see it.)

(Your father used to say that talent skips a generation and you got all of grandfather's good traits.)

It's harder this time. Not only because it's not about a day, now you have to think of the now and the future. Not because you're older and whatever you choose will possibly change your life, forever. It's harder. That's all. And you don't have the right, or even the wrong, words to describe _why_.

"O and I will still be here, no matter what, you know", Lincoln says and you nod again. There's that question in the silence that follows and your eyes find Lincoln's.

(You know _why_ it feels harder, but you can't admit it without risking to break down all over again.)

“I don't know”, you whisper and it's Lincoln's turn to sigh.

Then he moves from his corner of the couch to sit next to you and his arm is soon around your shoulders, your head fall to his shoulder, and the TV is back on.

\--

_7:30pm_

Monty got you in a headlock, at least he's clutching to your neck as if he's scared that you'll disappear right into thin air if he lets go. You let him have his moment, because you're having one too and you're not up to showing the tears building up in your eyes. As long as he holds you like this you can hide your face in the crook of his neck and you can deal with that. He smells like something lost and found, something you didn't know you had missed this much until his arms were around your neck and yours around his waist. He smells like Monty, like letting go after finals, like herbs and musk. He smells like home.

"Okay, move over it's my turn", Jasper huffs impatiently and Monty steps back with a tender smile on his lips. His eyes are glassy too. As you turn around Jasper flings himself at you and pulls you into his embrace. 

He smells just as much as home.

"You clingers", you murmur.

"Shut up", the two of them answer and you giggle a little as you snuggle into Jasper's neck.

There's something special about being around the people that used to be _all_ of your life. They are still a part of your life, but there´s a difference between seeing each other once every three days and once every year. Yeah, you were back over New Year's, but you didn´t leave Lincoln´s apartment apart from that time you went out to get some Aspirins for Octavia´s headache. So you haven't seen them since June last year. That's scaring you. It was so easy for you to pack up your things and leave. You didn´t look back for a second. All you wanted, _needed_ , was to get away and you left all of your friends unknowing of your plans and where you were going. You didn´t look back. That's who you are - you leave when you feel like it, without looking back.

After sending off Jasper and Monty to get some music going, they should feel really fucking privileged for that, you set the table. It's the least you can do after Lincoln spent three hours getting dinner ready.

Like a thunder rumbling through the sky a voice reaches you and it's filled with hatred.

“The prodigal daughter returns, or have they changed it to self centered bitch yet”.

You had stopped in your motion at the first word, but when he quiets you put down the fork on the table next to the plate. The rest of the forks hand rattle in your other hand.

“Guess I deserved that”, you reply without turning around, tasting bitter on your tongue.

He scoffs at your answer. “You have no idea what you deserve”.

You breathe out and put down the rest of the cutlery without bothering to set the rest of the table. When you turn around you find his brown, deep eyes and they reflect the same hatred you heard in his voice.

“What have I ever done to you?”.

The wicked expression on his face is worse than you've ever seen and you've seen some madness this last year. God knows, you've seen some of it in the mirror too.

“You broke up me and my girlfriend to start with”.

“I had nothing to do with that” , you answer and shrug your shoulders. Finn scoffs once again, only this time you've had enough of his attitude and straight up bullshit. “For fucks sake. We all have battles scars, Finn. Suck it up and build a brace for yours", you tell him and push off the table. Your knuckles flash white and your jaws are set with tension.

"And that's coming from the girl who took off, just like that". You don´t know what to say to that. The sensible thing would be to just walk away, but Finn cuts in before you can do anything at all. "Oh don't tell me that was you _building a brace_ ".

You watch him walk away and when he stops next to Monty in front of the stereo you leave as well. That guy can drive you nuts, has had that ability since the first time you met. You find Lincoln standing in the kitchen, doing something to a bowl of salad that looks suspiciously much like dressing it. Guess you're not eating any vegetables tonight - you hate vinegar.

"Remind me again why you're friends with that idiot", you exhales frustratingly as you scope out a piece of cucumber before he blends it with the rest of the salad.

"We're not, but he's friends with Jasper so we couldn't get rid of him", Octavia answers as she steps into your periphery and bumps your hip with her own before leaning into Lincoln.

"Have I told you I love you", you ask and the smile filling up Octavia's lips is enough to brighten up the whole room and the world with it.

"Not today, no".

"I love you Octavia Blake, soon to be Mrs _Moore_ ", you say and blow her a kiss.

"That's right", Lincoln murmurs with glowing eyes and places a kiss to Octavia's head.

If love was a picture, this would be it - Lincoln and Octavia in each other's embraces, holding on so soft and gently with arms, hard and long with eyes.

(This is the moment you´ll forget as quickly as you promised to always remember it.)

"What are we talking about?", a very familiar and long lost memory of a voice interrupts all of you in that sacred moment as _she_ joins you.

She steps into your view, eyes bright and blue, curls long and blonde, lips firmly tighten into a hard smile. When those blue wonders travel around slowly to fall on you, her lips fall into a sad expression. It draws the breath out of your lungs. She is striking. It's been months and months, moons after moons, yet her eyes are still the same color as the ones that have been haunting your dreams. She looks the same and she is _beautiful_. 

Absolutely breathtaking.

It almost feels like they are spinning around each other, like two sides of a coin, yet everything is still. You are unable to breathe, unable to move, unable to _not_ look at _her_. The tug at your chest had been something small, bearable, for months now, until this moment. She looks like a goddess - too good to be true. An living and breathing image painted by Michelangelo himself.

A feeling of warmth hits you, right there, in the chest, over your heart. It spreads, quickly, throughout your body, fills it with more warmth. That kind of grounding warmth, the kind that works like anchors to your floating mind and it settles you firmly on the ground without holding you down.

Maybe this is what it truly feels like coming _home_.

"So how have you-", Clarke begins and you breathe in for what must have been minutes of holding your breath, at least it feels like that long. Your chest aches. Your fingers tingle and there's a shooting pain in your stomach, reaching out and in of itself like it's trying to leave your body.

She's interrupted by another voice, followed by a woman in a black, sleeveless shirt, dark brown hair tied up in more braids than you can count, stepping up to Clarke's side. Her arm is covered in tattoos and her eyes are painted hard with black eyeliner and eye-shadow. It's almost intimidating how she carries herself with such a _touchable_ pride and grace. 

Almost.

"I think I'm going crazy pretending to be this polite, I need a drink", the woman exhales with a boring tone to her unfamiliar voice. You´ve never seen her before and right now you wish you could be able say that same thing for another minute or two. But reality isn't kind like that. Clarke eases visibly when the woman approaches and when they stand next to each other, Clarke almost smiles. The woman looks at each and every one of you, when her eyes land on you, dark green and full with life, her face falls. However, she doesn´t look at you for any longer than she looked at Octavia and Clarke, but she turns her body ever so slightly towards Clarke as she takes another step forward. Like she's protecting her. "Oh hey, sorry, did I interrupt something", she asks and you´d like for Lincoln to come back now, so that you can kill him and then disappear into thin air.

(Whatever to make you get as far away as possible from those green eyes and the tenderness in the blue ones.)

\--

_11:10pm_

Monty sways a from side to side, unbalanced on his round feet. You take hold of his shoulders and steady him before trying to hold his gaze, which is also very unsteady. "You are the most beautiful broom in a broom closet full of brooms", you tell him as an answer to his very drunk and illogical question. He hums something clearly incomprehensible in response and you swallow back the laughter quickly growing in the back of your throat. "Okay. Get him home, now", you say and turn him 180 degrees and into Jasper's hands. Thankfully they flipped a coin on which of them who would act as the designated driver for tonight, very unusual for them to be responsible like that, and Jasper drew the short stick on that one. 

"Alright, you bad boy, come here. See you tomorrow", Jasper answers with a little giggle on his voice. He smiles at you as he hooks one of Monty's arms around his own neck to keep him upright. 

"Bye Jasper. Bye Monty”, you reply as the two of them slowly make their way down the hall.

You turn around to finding Octavia kissing Lincoln chaste on the lips. The smile she leaves on his mouth is a promise of everlasting love, one you know that they will keep. You might be weary about this wedding and the pace they've set for themselves, but you know it's true when you look at them in moments like this - they only have eyes for each other. Octavia grabs her purse and opens it, Lincoln still standing close with his hands down his pockets, waiting quietly to see Octavia through the door. Bellamy's already left and is waiting for her downstairs. They may not be that traditional or care too much about superstitions, but they did however expressed their wish to keep some of the anticipation. So Octavia is going to stay at Bell's, since she moved out of her dorm three weeks ago, whilst you're still be staying here with Lincoln.

"Raven, don forget-".

"I'll be there at nine don't you worry", you say before she gets the chance to end the sentence. She looks up from digging through her purse, probably looking for her phone as usual, to find your eyes. A thankful expression falls over her and you walk up to her. She slumps into your embrace with a tired sigh. Some part of you doesn't want to let go, just wants to stay like this forever and never let reality destroy the peace you feel right now. Still, you step back after holding her even harder for another moment. "Get some sleep babe", you whisper and she nods. A smile plays on her lips when she pulls out her phone with a triumphant gesture.

You step to the side and watch as she puts on her shoes. She turns halfway through the door.  
"Love you".

"Love you too", the two of you answer and you feel the warm coming from Lincoln's body when he takes a step closer.

The door closes silently and after that an unsettling silence finds its way to the apartment. It fills up every corner and turn until you feel it crawl over your skin. It's nice too. In a very complicated way you find comfort in the silence. You fall down onto the couch, fling your legs up on the coffee table and slides down a little further. When Lincoln appears two minutes later, handing you a glass of clear woody brown liquid, he's loosened his tie and got the same tired expression you saw on Octavia's face earlier.

“That went well”, he says and you roll your eyes without him seeing it.

“I fucking hate you”, you answer and take all of the whisky in one go.

(It numbs the ache in your chest. But not the tug.)

(He has his arm around your shoulders and your head on his shoulder after your third round.)

//

_11:30am_

The water runs down your back. Leaving your skin blemished and aching. Your lungs inhale fog and exhale worry. Time is a very weird thing. It determines your beginning and end, but all the events there in between are not bound to seconds and minutes. You know this from experience. No time was given to you and your father, leaving your soul tainted when it should have been memories of the two of you saved there. Months made you linger and hope, because each day made you fall harder and faster for Lincoln and he didn't even have to be present for all of those days, you still fell deeper and deeper into the love that grew between you. Only moments were offered for you to get to know Raven, yet that was all you needed to open up your heart and give each other a love greater than one that was born through friendship.

You didn't grow up longing for a day to come when you would promise your life to another. You didn't wish or hope to find the greatest of loves. It didn't become a dream until you met _him_. You didn't believe in having a family outside of your brother and yourself. Yet, within two years you found both love and family.

This day marks a dream coming true, if all plans go as planned.

You turn off the water and lean against the wall of the shower. You wait out the fog, let it clear out for another couple of minutes before you step out of the shower and get dressed. One day at a time, that's what Lincoln told you this morning when you laid in bed, his arms holding you close to his chest, his heartbeat falling into the rhythm of yours, your fingers sprawled over his shoulders, he told you that you'd take it one day at a time. One day. Maybe they can get through _this_ day without everything escalating into something that won't ever be repaired.

(You only needed moments to understand the depth of the love Raven held for Clarke. It only took days for you to see how destructive that love was.)

When you step out of the bathroom you spot Lincoln standing by the stove and Raven by the kitchen table, one hand on the back of the chair next to her like she needs it to keep herself upright.

“Hey, you're up”, you say and walk over to her after closing the bathroom door.

“Sure am”, Raven answers and you snake your arms around her waist, she leans back against you with a tired sigh. “For now, at least”.

“It´s better than nothing”, Lincoln replies and you nod against Raven´s shoulder in agreement.

“What are you doing today?”, Raven asks and you let go off her waist to move over to the counter. You jump up on it and snatch a corner of the top pancake resting on the plate next to the stove.

“Brunch with Bell”.

You fire off a smile towards Lincoln as the subtle taste of vanilla fills your mouth.

(It's the little things that matters.)

(And Lincoln _never_ forgets the little things.)

“Okay, what are we doing today then?”, she asks. Lincoln´s lips form a smile only made for you before it quickly fades away as he turns to Raven. 

“I reserved the couch just for you”.

Raven exhales loudly, “I love you”. And you can´t hold back the laughter spilling off your tongue.

You watch as he shrugs his shoulders when he turns his eyes back to the stove. “I thought you needed some peace of quiet”.

“Well, you're also in charge of preparing for tonight”, you remind him. Raven then straightens her back a bit and turns fully towards you, doing the most ridiculous salute.

“Yes _sir_ ”.

You laugh at her stupidity and jump down from the countertop. “Idiot”, you say lovingly with a shake of your head. Leaning up on your toes you place a kiss onto Lincoln´s lips, the smile on yours rubs off on his. “Bye, call me if there´s something”, you tell him and after he nods in understanding you give him another kiss. 

“Bye, babe”, Raven teases with a wink when you're back on your heels and then she gives you her cheek. Weirdo, you think for yourself with another set of laughter ready in your lungs. Instead of saying anything you place a messy kiss on her cheek, you then squeeze her shoulder gently with your hand. It's amazing how much you miss her when she's gone and how easily all of you fall back into this when she´s back - to being closer than ever before.

“Don´t have too much fun without me”, you tell them as you walk away and you catch Raven´s scoff from behind your back. You grab your bag thrown lazily over the back of the couch on your way towards the door and put your leather jacket on before turning the handle on the front door.

“Not possible”, she yells back at you as you walk through the door.

(No words in this world could describe how happy you are to have her home again.)

After a short and brisk walk to the little bistro five blocks away your hair has air dried almost completely. 

You spot Bellamy as soon as you push the door open, to the familiar clang of the doorbell, and he sees you too. He's on his feet before you reach the table and then pulls you into his arms. He smells like Clarke's shampoo and coffee, a combination you've gotten used to by now. It would almost be weird if he didn't smell like that. Just as weird as it would be if Clarke wouldn't wear his college hoodie when she's sick.

"Hey you", he whispers as he tighten his arms around you.

"Let go you big bear", you squeal and he scoffs as he lets you out of his grip.

"I'm only glad that I get to steal a moment to hang with the bride to be".

You poke out your tongue at him as you sit down at the table.

“I always have time for you”, you murmur and he´s lips split into a smile. “Plus, I can´t be in the apartment right now”. That comes without saying. You know that Raven trusts you and confide in you, but there are things, shades of doubt, subjects of pain, haunting of dreams, that she only confides in Lincoln with. You know this. It's not something you feel bad or jealous about, you only want what's best for her. All you´ve ever wanted is the best for her. If that meant that you had to get out of the way so that Lincoln could try and get into her mind for a bit, perhaps even sort out some of that heaviness in her eyes (or the way she shouts for help in the middle of the night, waking everyone besides herself up in terror), then that´s what you are going to do.

Bellamy's hand slides over the table to find yours where you´re tugging and pulling absently at your fingers. 

"How is she?".

Of course he can read you like an open book, too.

"Good, I think. Stressed. In denial, the usual", you answer with a hollow laugh. But then you nod like at yourself and continue, “she's doing great and she's here, that's what matters".

You never doubted her, that she would be here that is. She promised and if there's something Raven Reyes does, it is to keep her promises. That´s why she makes so few of them. However that does not change the fact that you're worried about her, that all of you are on edge and ready to jump ship if that's what it takes to get through his weekend alive. 

Your eyes find Bellamy´s again and he exhales slowly, once again it´s like he can read the question in your eyes. "She's all over the place", he says and you knew that already, you've known it for weeks, since you told her that Raven was your maid of honor. 

(The unsaid four letter name hanging in the air belongs to the one person who seems to be able to get through to Clarke.)

(You´ve already thanked the gods for _her_ and what she does to Clarke.)

She must have understood that Raven would come, that you would convince her or drag her back here for your wedding even if it meant that you had to actually _go get_ her. Although, Clarke probably didn't believe it until you told her about the maid of honor thing and the fact that Raven was indeed _coming_ home. Maybe she didn't believe it, because that would mean that she would actually get the chance to save whatever there was left between them.

And the heavens know, all of you are hoping for the best. But what that _is_ , is getting harder and harder to determine.

"As long as they survive this weekend".

“You mean _we_. We'll all go down if they do”, he replies. There's so much truth to that sentence it makes the hair on your neck stand. You can't afford to lose either of them. Especially now. Still, there's the risk that one of them will take off. This time, maybe for good. "How are you doing?", Bellamy then asks with another squeeze of his hand over yours.

"Stressed. Nervous. Really _really_ happy", you tell him with a lingering smile.

"Good. Do you need me to do anything?".

"Keep an eye on them. I'll do my best to get them talking at the very least, but I got this feeling that...", the words die on the tip of your tongue. You can't really explain, something just feels off. Or like there´s this static in the air, like there's thunder coming.

"Yeah, I know. I feel it too", Bellamy tells you with a worried nod of his head. Then his brows furrow and he looks right at you again. “Hey, does Raven know about Lexa?”.

(You'd want a whole day just to sort that out.)

\--

_7:50pm_

To have all of your friends over for dinner seemed like an excellent idea. Lincoln's family have been in town for the past week, so they didn't mind having some time for themselves after all the last minute planning. So it really did seem like a good idea to spend your last night of _freedom_ with your friends, that way you could escape all the hen and bachelor party mess. 

(Finn almost jumped at you when he found out that you basically stole Lincoln from him and his last chance of getting him drunk. He didn't know that the dinner was Lincoln's idea.)

It s seemed like a good idea until you came home and found Raven chopping up onions _without_ watching the knife. You were on her in a second and quickly took the knife from her hand, Lincoln watched with furrowed brows and an innocent look in his eyes. Raven was immediately put to get the drinks ready, with her being a bartender and all, and to set the table. She did look both relieved and disappointed at your order, but you guessed that all of her emotions were up and running. You know yours were then and certainly are now. However, you are set on making sure that all of you arrive at the venue tomorrow with all your fingers intact. Which won't happen if Raven is anywhere closer than a five feet radius of a knife, grater or potato peeler without supervision.

(You know that she feels the same way about you and music. Which often leads to the two of you arguing.)

(She usually wins.)

How she has survived this long is surprising to you, yet again, it´s only in the kitchen that she's in danger. Put her in any other situation with real danger and she handles it with bravura. Though, if you´re right (you are), she has survived on takeouts and leftover takeouts these last months. She hasn't got any practice at actually cooking since she left.

So it was a good idea, until Lincoln and yourself had to get everything done before the others started to arrive.

You rushed into the bedroom to change the same second the doorbell rang the first time. Behind the closed door you could hear Jasper and Monty greeting Raven. The laughter made all that stress lingering in your body dissolve into nothing, not even a whimper of a memory. You know for a fact that everyone are really excited to see her again and you think it will do her good to see that for herself.

When you leave the bedroom, black dress on and hair sprawled over your shoulders, you lay eyes on Lincoln and Raven coming his way with clutching fists at her sides.

"Remind me again why you're friends with that idiot", she says frustratingly as she pulls to a stop.

"We're not, but he's friends with Jasper so we couldn't get rid of him", you answer as you step into the kitchen, you bump hip with her to then lean into Lincoln.

"Have I told you I love you", she asks and you can´t hold back the smile growing on your lips.

"Not today, no", you say and Lincoln´s chest vibrates with laughter, but it doesn´t reach the air.

"I love you Octavia Blake, soon to be Mrs _Moore_ ". She blows you a kiss.

"That's right", Lincoln murmurs before placing a kiss to your head.

If love could be captured and saved forever, you´d want to save this moment - Lincoln and you, holding each other with such a gentle touch, eyes filled with the passion you only share in sacred moments when no one else is around. Well, Raven's around, but doesn't really count.

(You see her coming before she makes the others aware of her presence. Before Raven knows _she_ is here.)

"What are we talking about?".

You watch she change in Raven. In Clarke. Even feel the small but yet noticeable change in Lincoln. 

This is what the calm before a storm feels like.

“Hi Raven”, Clarke´s voice is only a whisper

How much can be shared between eyes. That's a question you'll never get an answer to. But something is exchanged between deep brown and bright blue, right before your eyes and neither of them says anything. Which is a problem, especially now when Clarke has made an attempt at being civil. You eye Raven, worrying your lip between your teeth, anxious for her to say something.

 _Anything_. 

Just spit it out for Christ sake, you yell inside your head.

"The fact that Octavia soon won't be a Blake anymore", Lincoln answers and you know he does it to save Raven. 

"I'll always be a Blake. Speaking of Blakes, where's Bell with the ice?", you say, frowning as you turn to scan through the apartment for your brother.

"I'll go find him", Lincoln offers. You squeeze his waist in agreement where your hand has been resting.

He lingers for a moment at Raven's side as she passes her, leaving her with a fury in her eyes. Another silence falls over the three of you. You don't mind it, really don't. Yet again, you do mind them being like this. They used to be best friends and no they are this - awkward, quiet, out of place.

You cough, forced of course. It seems to be the only way to get any attention from the black haired girl. Raven looks more confused than you feel, but also like she might actually say something.

But unfortunately Raven can´t speak before Clarke does. 

Yet she doesn't say much either.

"So how have you-", Clarke begins but is interrupted by another voice, followed by Lexa making her way into their little circle. 

She´s wearing a black, sleeveless shirt. Together with her dark brown hair, tied up in those impressive braids you loved from the first time you saw them, she looks like something the most foolish girls would fall for. God knows, if you were single you'd be falling for it in seconds.

"I think I'm going crazy pretending to be this polite, I need a drink", she says and you smile towards her. Those green eyes of hers look at each and every one of you, when her eyes land on Raven though, her face falls. However, she doesn´t look at the other girl for any longer than she looked at Clarke and you, but she turns her body ever so slightly towards Clarke as she takes another step forward. 

Always so protective, you think for yourself and bite down on your bottom lip. 

(Here goes.)

"Oh hey, sorry, did I interrupt something", she asks and you're not sure there's a good answer to that question.

\--

_11:12pm_

"I'll see you tomorrow", you murmur against his mouth, lips brushing against his with a little smile playing in the corner but not quite reaching far enough to fill them.

"I can't wait", he answers and kisses you. It's soft, gentle, deep and holds every single emotion you share for each other.

I can't wait to be yours, in all ways there are. You put those words into the kiss as his tongue graces your bottom lip, but lingers there instead of deepening the kiss even further. I can't wait to be yours Lincoln, you hum quietly before pulling back.

"Me neither", you reply with a small smile on your lips, you press it to Lincolns with a silent beat of your heart.

You can´t wait to share your insignificant forever with him. It may be small in the significance of the great big world, but it's never-ending when he's around. So you'll give him every second of it and even more if time allows it.

Your eyes fall from his at the thought of it. Not that it scares you, but you're barely capable of keeping your hands off him for long enough to say goodbye. If he saw the reflection of those thoughts in your eyes, not even the gods would be able to keep the two of you apart. You grab your purse from where it hangs over the couch and open it with lazy fingers, still feeling Lincoln standing close by your side.

(His very presence is all you need to feel loved.) 

"Raven, don't forget-", you begin as you´re still searching through your purse.

"I'll be there at nine don't you worry", she interrupts and draws your eyes to herself. You exhale as a calm falls down over you and soaks through all those nerves. She notices, she can read you like the open book you are, and comes up to you. You almost falls into her arms with a desperate sigh. You would survive on Raven´s hugs alone. When she steps back you catch the same feeling reflected in her brown eyes. "Get some sleep babe", she whispers and you nod. 

A smile plays on you lips when your fingers grip a hold of your phone deep down in your purse and you pull it out with that same smile still on your lips.

She steps to the side to let you pass her. You're on your way out the door when all of those feelings hit you, so you turn to find both of them watching you. "Love you", you say and your heart sings the words as well.

"Love you too", the two of them answer and you feel the warmth spreading through your body, and it doesn't stop until you're back at Bell´s.

(Truth be told, that warmth never leaves you.)

\--

_11:57pm_

**Lincoln (11:57pm): The bed is cold without you in it**

**Octavia (11:58pm): I know the feeling**

**Lincoln (11:58pm): I love you so much**

**Octavia (11:59pm): Love you more**

(You fall asleep smiling and dream of strong arms holding you through the night.)

//

_11:15am_

The room smells of anguish. It´s almost touchable.

You woke up with the feeling of it choking you. Your legs was trapped in the sheets after a night of twisting and turning. The pounding headache was the only thing that was any indicator of you actually being alive, still. You got up and opened the window to ventilate some of that heaviness in the air. You´ve been pacing back and forth since that first blow of wind caressed your cheeks. 

Your head is still pounding, but it's not just that - your chest feels tight, almost like you're out of breath and no matter how many deep breaths you take, your lungs still scream for help.

You're pacing to keep yourself from thinking, because thinking leads to putting one and one together. Because you've felt like this once before. That time you stood by your father's bed, with his hand in yours, his heartbeats counting down and then coming to a jarring stop. If you stop, you'll hear that ear deafening sound again. You're pacing because you're scared out of your mind.

You almost jump out of your own skin with a sudden jolt at the light knock on your bedroom door.

“Bye, babe. See you and Lexa tonight”, Bellamy shouts and you exhale with your shoulders sinking down to a normal level again. Right, he´s getting brunch with Octavia and then he´s off to work.

“Bye, Bell”, you answer and some sort of a relieved smile touches your lips.

Your heart doesn't calm until long after you've heard the front door shut after him. You blame your nerves for that.

Octavia have forbidden everyone from arriving before seven, which fits perfectly since Lexa doesn't finish until then. Problem is; you can't stand the quiet.

You spend most of the bed doing nothing. Or more like, you try to spend the day in bed doing nothing. The air is too heavy. _You_ are too heavy and it drives you completely insane. So you throw on that white blouse Bellamy got you for your birthday and the black ripped jeans you stole from Octavia. After you've stopped sighing and complaining about your hair for a good few minutes you do your makeup, you keep it light and mostly contouring your eyes, to then leave the apartment with Lexa´s leather jacket on. 

It clock has barely passed three pm.

There is a low buzz in the cafe when you slip through the door, you've gotten used to it by now after spending at least four nights a week here. It´s comfortable, soothing even. You don't even have to look for her, your eyes are drawn to her like magnets and they find her standing behind the counter.

A lock of her hair has escaped its braid and is irritating her eye. She tries to blow it out of her face, but it immediately falls back down again, leaving a frustrating tension around those full lips. She leaves it hanging after a while, too busy keeping track of her own hands as they work at their own accord.

Something you've noticed about her is the way her whole body shifts when she stands back there. Her posture is always perfect but its enhanced when she's working, like she puts her every bit of pride and strength into what she does. More than once have you listened to her arguing to herself about the work she does, that she only serves coffee, but it never ends with her being negative about it. She´s never _negative_ , not even after a whole day of serving coffee to nonchalant people that (somehow, you don't really get _how_ ) don't spare her a second glance.

You know for a fact that _that_ attitude will end up giving her the chance to do great things in this world.

God knows, she´s already started doing great things to you.

Her green eyes scan through the cafe and widen with surprise when they find you. It quickly changes into joy as you walk towards her.

"Please tell me you have some booze stashed away somewhere around here", you mumble as you throw up your bag on the countertop at the very end of the line to then place your head on it with a desperate sigh.

She snickers quietly. "I think we have some liqueur. I can make you a macchiato with... hazelnut liqueur?", she replies and you lift your head up just enough to meet her gaze. You grunt in response and she continues to snicker. 

She places the cup of steaming coffee in front of you before going back to work. When you take the first sip, a smile touches your lips and then your eyes finds hers watching you. A little smirk pulls at the corner of Lexa´s mouth, but it stays there since she's caught up making conversation with her coworker, her name is Indra and she's the most scolding woman you've ever met, but also the most respecting one too, while juggling taking care of the coffee orders and the customers.

When you're out of coffee Lexa somehow manages to slip by you and replace the mug with a glass of cold water. You don't touch it.

You observe her work as in a haze. You fingers tingle with that familiar feeling, one that often creep up on you when you're around her. Normally you'd be able to get rid of it, let it flow through your fingers and stick to paper instead, but you didn't bring you sketchbook. In the rush of getting out of the apartment you completely forgot to put your sketchbook in your bag, the one thing you tend to always have on you nowadays. Thanks to Lexa. She bought you that book as a consolation prize as she called it. Evidently you succeeded in not quitting last year and actually stayed in college, but you still got a long way to go. So she got you that book as a small but healing bandage on the wound, her words not yours. It was cute and thoughtful (which of course made Bellamy watch you with big eyes when you showed him, he didn't actually say anything but you could see it on him and he wanted to say plenty). You have sketched her so many times by now, in all different styles and environments, but that does not change the fact that your fingers still tingle whenever you watch her in that mood.

Time, minutes followed by hours pass and you don't move an inch.

After returning from a quick wardrobe change Lexa comes to stand next to you, she leans against the counter with her back and you feel her presence there even though you can barely see her in the corner of your eye. You´ve been laying with your head in your arms on top of the countertop for the last half hour or so and every bit of energy has left your body.

"Do you wanna talk about it?", she asks.

She knows you. Better than you do sometimes. She has the ability to read you and tell you all the things you need to hear but will never ask for, it's sweet, it's harsh, it's honest and pure. She helps you see what you forgot and what you need to discover all over again. She´s pain and happiness.

"I don't know what there is to talk about", you mumble and the way Lexa nudges your arm lightly with her elbow sends shivers down your spine, or more like tiny electric shocks.

"I think her name starts with _r_ ". You grunt in response and breathe out heavily. The emptiness echoing in your chest replaces the tug you've still not gotten used to. "Hey, look at me". Lexa´s voice is strong and demanding, as is the hand she cups under your chin and uses to lift your head up from its place on your folded arms. Her eyes shine of green forests and life. "I'm with you".

"Okay".

"I will _not_ leave you".

"Okay", you whisper again.

The smile filling up those green eyes is brighter than the sun itself and it scares away the last of the emptiness. "We are going to have a good time, together", she says and you nod slightly. Her hand travels up over your cheek, fingers tangle in your hair before running through it fully. That smile reaches her lips before she leans back against the counter like she did earlier. You sit back up straight and let your eyes close during a few breaths, but they quickly find hers again when they open. "You're all good honey", Lexa continues. She sounds confident.

(You don´t know how she can do that.)

"As long as I got you, right?".

She laughs a little and runs that same hand over her own hair. "Oh yeah baby", she answers with that silky voice of hers.

It's first now that you see it. Her sleeveless black shirt and pine green pants. Her green eyes are framed with black eye-shadow and clean lines of eyeliner. She reminds you of Egypt, kingdoms, war and epic love. She reminds you to take a breath. You may not be made by steel, but she has showed you that even trees can stand tall in their loneliness, battle through every storm with roots digging deeper than the wind can curb. Her hair is tied up in those immaculate braids. 

She's a vision.

"Like what you see?".

Your eyes jerk up. Her brow is hitched in question and the little glimpse in her eyes is too cute for you to handle. She can definitely do some damage with those eyes.

"You know I do", you answer and she laughs that raspy and healing laugh you've grown to miss when the rest of the world just gets too much.

"Come on heart eyes, we need to get going", she tells you and bumps your shoulder with her fist.

You follow her as she makes her way out of the cafe, leaving more than one person looking at her when she passes them. It makes you grin, in more ways than you´d explain. And it doesn't hurt as much anymore.

Lexa has the ability to chase away the fragile memories of dark hair, brown eyes, flower petals covering an ankle and rough hands.

At least for another minute or two.

You check the time on your phone as you enter the building, it´s a quarter to eight. And you are not ready for this.

(Will you ever be ready for this?)

\--

_7:57pm_

"Oh hey, sorry, did I interrupt something".

"No", the both of you answer. You catch the surprise in Raven´s eyes when she looks at you, it must be reflected in your own because she looks away just as fast again.

"Good", Lexa says but the way she peeks over at you tells you that she would like to say a whole lot more.

Not that you wouldn´t mind her talking because that means you don't have to and you're not even sure you _can_ really talk in this state. 

Because seeing _her_ feels like a slap to the face and someone knocking the air out of your lungs, but at the same time like something fills out all the holes and voids in your body. 

It´s not being able to breathe even though your lungs finally understand that it's okay to breathe oxygen instead of anxiety.

Like the blood running through your veins has stilled and is boiling, like your eyes are blinded but all you see is light, like the world has come to a jarring stop and at the same time spins more now than ever before.

Still, Lexa is great but also very very blunt and that could go all kinds of wrong in this particular situation.

So you take to words before she can.

"Lexa this is Raven. Raven, Lexa".

"Hi", Raven says with what you recognize as a forced smile. Good god, you think and bite the inside of your cheek.

"So you're the infamous Raven Reyes", Lexa replies and now you're chewing of the inside of your cheek. Raven's eyes narrow once again, this time in Lexa´s direction. "They talk a lot about you", she explains, but it really doesn't clarifies anything at all.

You can see the darker shade of something that looks similar to jealousy play on Raven´s eyes for a second. The same second she licks her lips and then asks, “they?".

Lexa nods. You bite even harder on your cheek, hard enough for your tongue to taste iron. "Lincoln, O, Bell, everyone really".

"Oh, so you know all them", Raven comments and the way her mouth is contoured with tension makes you wonder why, for Christ's sake, did you bring Lexa. Yeah right, you couldn't imagine surviving this weekend without her by your side. You couldn't imagine seeing _her_ again without your support system and that was undeniably Lexa. That is why you brought her.

Because you need her, now more than ever.

"Yeah, we're all buddy buddies. Aren't we?". Lexa nudges your shoulder and you break away from Raven's mouth with your eyes. The last time your eyes were locked on them like this they were swollen and wet after your kiss. You can taste the memory of her on the tip of your tongue. 

And it hurts.

God, it _hurts_.

"Yeah, yes", you stutter as you swallow hard.

"Definitely", Octavia adds with a half smile. She's not buying your poor attempt at playing good and nice. You know it, it's written all over her face when she locks eyes with you.

“How´s London?”, you ask in an attempt to prove yourself wrong, to prove that you can do this, that it can be normal and good between you even though it's far from any of that.

“It´s good”, Raven answers with a short nod.

“Don't over exaggerate”, Octavia cuts in and nudges Raven´s side with her elbow. Raven flinches, but a smile do touches her lips for a split second. “She sounds like some cockney guy sometimes, it´s appalling”.

“Oh thank you dear”.

Raven's voice is kind and warm when it's directed at Octavia. 

And it hurts.

“But you got job or something?”. How you even finds the words to ask that will remain a mystery, but you do and Raven´s brown eyes are back on you like fire.

She tilts her head to the side, like she's trying to see you from another angel, like she's trying to see through you. “Yeah, at a club”.

A silence falls down over you, maybe the whole room. 

And it fucking _hurts_.

The tension in your shoulders and neck will most definitely leave you aching. Just like the tug at your chest will leave you twisting and turning when you find your way back to your bed. You can already feel the sweat down your back and how you'll sit up with eyes blown open with terror from yet another nightmare, or wishful dream. The last one is worse. Ten times worse. Because it´s an evil reminder of how stupid you were and how you'll never get what your heart desires, what your body lusts for. You will never have her and that hurts in ways that shouldn't be humanly possible.

Lexa´s hand brushes lightly against your hip, enough to break you out of the storm of thoughts, not long or hard enough for them to fade away again.

"So where's your date?", she asks and you know it's meant to distract you, and it does, but it also brings up the one topic you've avoided since that afternoon Octavia sprung that piece of information on you.

"What?", Raven laughs and you furrow your brows at the sudden humor. It almost sounds like she's genuinely surprised by the question.

"Yeah, Octavia said that you were dating someone", you add and Raven's eyes widen at your words. You look over at Octavia for some support, but the only thing you find is the panicky look in her eyes. It's almost like you can hear her breathe _fucking shit_ , over and over again.

"I don't...", Raven's voice fades quickly as she turns her eyes to Octavia as well. You watch the sudden anger I those brown eyes and swallow hard when you realize what it means. "I don't have a plus one", Raven continues and every word is hissed through gritted teeth.

Oh fuck.

You can hear yourself mumble the words and when you glance over at Lexa, she seems to think the same thing.

Oh fucking shit.

"Sorry, maybe I got it wrong", you say and Lexa scoffs quietly beside you.

"Yeah, definitely".

"Okay, I think we should go. You said that Monty was here? We need to do some collecting. He hasn't paid me back for that escort yet", Lexa hurries and drags you away from there by your arm, though there's no need to drag you because you already feel like running far far away from this place.

When you glance back at the girls with the same dark colored hair, you see them standing closer, Octavia got her hands in her pockets whilst Raven's are open in front of her in a desperate gesture, Raven's talking fast and low, Octavia nods once and then twice. You turn back forward because it feels wrong to stare. Yet you can't help yourself, because you can still see the anger in Raven's eyes, one you´ve never seen before. So you glance back again, this time to catch Raven run her right hand through that hair (your fingers tingle at the motion) and then Octavia has hers on Raven's shoulders, they look at each other without saying anything. You turn back forward when Raven nods before crashing into Octavia's embrace.

(Your heart thumps desperately in your chest.)

\--

_10:40pm_

You can not help it.

It's hard enough as it is to not look at her, to not listen a little bit more intensely when she speaks, to not notice how your lungs hold their breath or how your whimpering heart jumps when you watch her smile.

You can not help the way you feel like your whole world has been concentrated around _her_. It has in a way - all of your friends are here and even though it's suppose to be Lincoln and Octavia's weekend they have given _her_ more than enough room. Jasper and Monty, mostly Jasper with his big and curious eyes, seemed mesmerized by Raven´s stories. She talked about her life like it was something given, something that shouldn't be spent to much time talking about on, like she hasn´t changed at all. She has. In so many ways. You sat across from her, two chairs to the left, perfectly able to watch the way her eyes lit up when she talked about quiet Sundays walking around London's busy streets, or how her lips quirked up ever so slightly when she spoke about a girl named Harper and a guy called Miller. (Or how her jaws tightened when she talked about her boss.) You had the chance and took it, soaked in every second of just looking at her.

Lexa didn't say anything about it, but her green eyes were filled with the mix of confusion and anticipation whenever they met yours from across the table.

You watched her on and off, trying to not stare too intensely or long. But it's hard to not look into the sun when you finally have the chance. Her eyes didn't meet yours, even once. Whenever you participated in the discussion, her eyes were somewhere else, on you but not available from direct eye contact. It frustrated you. It scared you. She seemed almost indifferent, like your presence did nothing to her, meant nothing to her.

Maybe it doesn´t.

Lexa went out after dinner to make a call. You bit back the teasing smile you would gladly give her, but you could save that for later when there wasn't an audience. Jasper dragged Finn with him to grab a smoke, even though most of you protested and give him a piece of your mind. Finn isn't the best role model for someone as sweet and innocent as Jasper. Yet, none of you can really do anything about it. When it comes down to it, Jasper might be the one affecting Finn more than Finn believes he can affect Jasper. At least Monty went with them, after assuring the rest of you that he wouldn't let either of them do anything too stupid. 

You leave the table after Octavia´s strict order to leave the dishes for her and Lincoln.

The three glasses of wine you happily took runs through your veins, spreading a warmth and heaviness through your body. You look over at where Lincoln and Octavia are fighting over the sink, laughing and giggling, splashing water at each other. The concept of love has changed a lot over the years, but it has had a constant definition since you got to know Octavia and the way she shared all of her being with Lincoln. What they have is the kind of love the younger and untainted version of you wished for.

It's amazing how fast it changes. How fast you can go from feeling happy and at peace with the whole situation.

It´s like gravity.

One second you're floating, watching the happy two at the sink, listing to their chatting and giggling. Then, you're crashing, your head turns and your eyes land on the back of a girl you once knew, and all the memories comes flooding back, they hit you all at once, knocking the air out of your lungs. 

You felt it earlier at dinner, maybe even before, but know that´s the _only_ thing you feel.

She's gravity.

She was comfort, stability, the one embrace you needed after a long week, the burned toast passed over the kitchen island on Saturday mornings. She was sanity. She was the cuddle you desperately needed during a horror movie, the one you fell asleep spooning and woke up entangled with. She was warmth, coffee, Thai food and cheap beer. She was home.

She _was_.

Not even yours. Not even close to being yours.

She is not yours.

Nor will she ever be.

Tears are rushing down your face before you can take another breath. Lungs screaming low and loud in your chest. It´s a ten. If you had to define the pain from one to ten, this is a ten. And you have no idea where it hurts. It only hurts. You suck in a ragged breath through shaking lips and when your tongue licks at your bottom lip you taste salt. 

She was.

And you fucked up.

You practically jump out of your skin when a hand gently brushes over your arm. Your head jerks to the side and your blue eyes find a pair of green ones.

“Clarke, what's wrong?”, Lexa asks and her eyes scans you for any physical evidence or explanation for your tears. If only she could see the way your chest is tightened.

“Nothing, just”, you lick your lips before biting down hard, trying to not let out another sob. Lexa´s hand strokes up and down your forearm, while her eyes are still trying to make any sense of your sudden breakdown. You shake your head and make one last attempt at getting your shit together, if only for one single minute. You exhale and inhale slowly, eyes meeting Lexa´s. She´s worried, it's written all over her face. And angry. Her shoulders are tense and her jaws locked. “Just take me out of here”, you breathe and watch the way those green eyes wander to the side and that anger in them flashes red.

You slip one of your hands into hers to get her attention again.

(And avoid her going off on one.)

Lexa´s fingers lace together with yours and then she exhales heavily. “Okay, come on”, she says and leads you to the door, picking up your bag and jacket as you pass them.

(She doesn't let go until she has to, only to pull you into her arms instead.)

(You haven't stopped crying even after you say goodbye and see her go back to the stairs.)

(She calls you two minutes later, not taking no for an answer.)

\--

_11:38pm_

Tears break through your guard and you clench your eyes shut in protest. How it's even possible that there are any tears left in your body is beyond incomprehensible. Your lashes are heavy with salt and sticky because of the not so waterproof mascara that ran down your face like watercolor earlier. The skin on your cheeks sting from all the rubbing and you still have remains of mascara tracks stretching from your eyes down to your cheekbones. The skin stings, your head is pounding and your chest feels like it's trapped underneath a car.

You suck in another short breath. Letting out a shaky sob as you exhale again.

 _”Are you going to be okay? I can come back, you know. I can be there in half an hour”_ , Lexa´s voice is close and far away. Too far away. Still, her voice is the only one you need to hear to be able to try again, maybe even try a little harder.

“You´ve got work tomorrow. No, I´ll just go to sleep”, you answer and wipe at the corner of your eyes. Lexa breathes slowly, calmly and steady. “Lex, thank you”.

 _“What for?”_.

“For being there for me, for being _here_ for me. I don't know what I'd do without you”, you answer and you can almost hear the smile she makes, how it spreads from ear to ear, you can see the way her eyes light up with warmth and happiness.

 _“You would be fine, Clarke”_. You're smiling too. It might me weak and stained by what's left after crying for almost an hour, but it's there. Then, her voice is there again, strong and confident, _“I meant what I said, I'm not leaving you”_.

“Goodnight Lex”, you whisper because there are so many other things you could tell her. All of which she already knows. She has always known.

 _“Sleep tight, Clarke”_.

You let your arm fall to your side, the phone feels heavy in your hand and the screen goes black as the dial window closes. You can't explain it. There are no explanation to why it felt like the world came crashing down in that moment. Still, you do know. It's been an enormous build up to that moment, to that significant moment when you would stand face to face with _her_ again. Yes, it´s been a year. Yes, you have moved on. Yes, you are better now than where you were last August.

No.

Simply no.

She shouldn´t be able to make you feel like this. But you've been carrying around the memories you hold of her for months, cherishing them, resenting them, crying over them. You´ve spent so much time thinking that you would never see her again and _then_ Lincoln and Octavia got engaged. And _she_ had a reason to come back again. She didn´t come back for you, or for what she felt for you. She came back for _them_. Only for them. She didn't even want to see you, you know it, you saw it in her eyes when she looked at you. She came back for Octavia and Lincoln, and she had to see you even though she'd rather forget about your existence.

So no. It's been over a year, you have been trying to move on and even though you are better now, all it took was for her to be there for you to feel like your whole world came crashing down. Because, even though you were blinded, she was your world.

You push off your bed at the click of the lock being turned and you step out into the hallway as Bellamy opens the front door. Octavia slips past him and her eyes catches you briefly before turning to hang up her jacket.

“Hey”.

“Hi”, you answer, voice husky and low. It comes out almost like a croak.

Her brown eyes look back up at you. Her brows hitched with confusion. “You alright?”.

“Yeah, I just talked to Lexa”, you answer, like that would explain anything at all. It doesn´t. Octavia doesn't let go of your gaze, so you break it instead. What your eyes find instead makes your brows jerk up in confusion. “What are you smiling about?”, you ask and Octavia turns her head to spot the same goofy grin smeared all over Bellamy's face.

“Us”.

You huff. Octavia looks like she's trying to solve a very difficult and complex mathematical problem. She walks over to you and stands by your side. “Do you know what he´s talking about?”, she then asks as she leans to you.

“Don't look at me, I'm not a Bellamy whisperer”, you scoff and Bellamy laughs quietly as he kicks of his shoes.

The two of you are still watching him when he´s done. The smile on his lips isn't fading.

“I know we´ve all been through some things this year and I just want to say that I'm really glad to have you both in my life”, he says and it´s Octavia´s turn to scoff, and she does it loudly as she holds her arms over her chest.

“Okay, what's with the emotions”.

“I don't know, I just needed to say it. I love you both so much and I couldn't imagine life without either of you”. You are about to fall into a very confused laughter at those words, but then he steps up to you and there's something in those dark eyes. Something you haven't seen before. And, it doesn't hurt as much in that moment. "I got myself another sister", he says and you blink away another set of tears.

Octavia huffs playfully, “I wasn't enough, huh?". You break into a laughter your body doesn't quite recognize, it has just a long time since you could _really_ laugh and it fills your heart with warmth to be able to set it free. You fling your arms around the two of them.

(Yeah, the Blake siblings are the best.)


	2. Saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which Raven is hungover and possibly working on an escape, Clarke is all wrecked hopes and haunting dreams, Lexa is the hero dressed in black, Octavia and Lincoln are the picture perfect couple, Bellamy is trying to keep all this shit together and Finn is... well, he is still the mean drunk.
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> **! Warning, I will not be held accountable for any of this !**
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> Mixed POV´s

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I´m still amazed that people sit down and read this mess, you guys are incredible. I cannot thank you enough for your support! With that said, please do not hate me for this chapter. Don´t forget to leave a comment! - E

_7:14am_

“Alright, alright! I'm coming!”, you yell as you stumble out of the guest bedroom, pulling up your sweatpants as you're walking over, hair still wet from the shower and a banging headache causing you to grit your teeth. You fling the door open and stand in the opening, eyes red with anger. Bellamy only grins back at you, Jasper and Monty not far behind him both with just as messy hair as you. “I should slap you”, you say instead of asking him if he knows what the time is and how incredibly stupid it is of him to bang on the door like a fucking gorilla.

Like you would run for the door if he just banged a few more times.

And it´s not like you're on edge and slightly hungover.

“You could try”, he answers and goes in for a kiss on the cheek. You grunt in response as he slips past you into the apartment. Jasper and Monty both offer you smiles, but do not try to get any hugs considering how narrowed your eyes are and how much of not a morning person you are. They learned that lesson a long time ago. When you close the door again, Bellamy´s watching you with a teasing smile. He eyes you up and down before clicking his tongue against his lip. “No beauty sleep for you, huh?”.

You flip him off, too tired to actually hit him even though he most definitely deserves it.

“Don't listen to him, Raven. He's just grumpy because his sister´s getting married before he is”, Jasper comments and Bellamy's face falls. Even though it's meant as a joke, Jasper is right on some level. Bellamy might not be the kind of person who dreams about a big wedding or meeting _the one_ , but he is Bellamy Blake after all.

The romantic in him must be taking a good beating out of this.

You chose to not comment on it. Although you can´t help the small moan that slips your lips as you tilt your head ever so slightly and pain shooting down your neck. Jasper is quick on his feet and returns from the kitchen without you even knowing that he even disappeared from your side, holding a glass of water in one hand and painkillers in the other. You´re _this_ close to kissing him.

“Bell take notes, this is how a gentleman acts”, you teas as you take the pills and swallow them down with big gulps of water. Bellamy scoffs.

“He's just trying to get some dirty weeding sex”.

Monty huffs, but when you look over at him you can tell that he is having difficulties with holding back laughter. Just like all the other times in the past that Jasper has made a fool out of himself or when he has been in any other state than sober. Just like that it feels like nothing has changed, like you didn't get on that plane and missed out on a whole year of being with these knuckleheads. Just like that you're reminded of what you could have lost and will if you leave for a second time.

(The tug at your chest stays at a steady rhythm, it only hurts a little bit more.)

“Fat chance”, you mumble as Jasper´s cheeks flash red.

“Aren't you running late?”, Lincoln adds before no one else can reply from where he´s standing at the kitchen table. His tux hanging with the hook in one of the upper cupboards in the kitchen and his vows displayed on the kitchen table.

(If you didn't know better, you´d say that he´s getting nervous because he´s never _this_ tidy.)

(He is incredibly nervous.)

“Do you need a ride?”, Monty asks and you fire off a big smile directed to Bellamy, teasing as hell. He only shakes his head, but those eyes are filled with warmth and promise of a lot more than just teasing each other for the rest of the weekend.

“No, thank you Monty. I´m taking Lincoln's car”, you say as you grab your jacket, you feel for the keys in one of the pockets before turning back to your room to get your bag. The dress is already at the church, as you should be too.

When you come back out, Monty and Jasper has moved into the kitchen and are busy talking to Lincoln about something that brings a big smile to his lips. You couldn't be happier even if all of your dreams came true in this moment.

(Or would you?)

“Remember that we drive on the right side in this country”, Bellamy murmurs as you place your hand on the handle.

“Fuck you Bellamy”.

“You´ve already done that, remember”, he replies and you throw him a look, he´s smiling well too big for his own good and then winks as you close the door.

You're wearing an irritable smile as you leave the building.

You love Bellamy Blake and his jackass comments.

The ride over to the church takes less than ten minutes, but it's ten minutes that you spend clenching to the wheel, nervously tapping your fingers against either your thigh or the gearstick whenever you stop at a red light, eyes flickering up to the review mirror three times as often than you need to. Lincoln isn't the only one who´s nervous, that's for sure. One might think that things would feel easier after last night, that it wouldn´t feel like your chest was trapped or like the pain in the back of your head wasn't caused by the amount of alcohol you consumed yesterday. No, one would possibly even believe that it could be normal to do this.

It´s not.

(Although, normal hasn´t been normal for at least the past year.)

The pain is a mix of tension and your body trying to deal with the hangover you've clearly gotten. Training does not make perfect, because if it did your body would have learned to deal with having a hangover like a master by now. (Sometimes you even believe that you're dealing worse and worse by each time you wake up with this kind of a banging headache.) As for your chest, it hasn't been the same since that day. Since that _kiss_. So that has close to nothing to do with this day. It only has _everything_ to do with blonde curls and ocean blue eyes. And this day is not going to be spoiled on thinking of either of those, or pink lips that taste of coffee, or the overwhelming feeling of her body against yours.

You are jerked back into reality at the sound of a horn going off and when your eyes shoot up to the review mirror you catch the driver behind you in his blue Volvo flipping you off.

You practically jump on the gas.

When you pull up at the church two blocks later your knuckles are white from holding onto to the wheel as if in a death grip.

(Yeah, blue eyes and blonde curls will ruin you.)

Your lungs seem to have gotten suddenly allergic to the taste of air and you feel weak at the knees, idiotically enough you have to brace yourself against the side of the car. It´s not even _her_ weeding for crying out loud, you think for yourself as your lip gets caught between your teeth. Yet why does it feel like this is the beginning to a slow and heart aching goodbye.

Yeah right, because _she_ has someone.

 _She_ has Lexa.

The taste of copper fills your mouth and when your hand comes up to wipe across your mouth something wet and sticky is left on the skin of the back of your hand. Your hand is stained red with drops of blood. Last night at dinner you spent all of your energy on not looking at _them_ , on not noticing the fact that Clarke leaned towards Lexa with those blue eyes relieved from hurt (but the few times she met your gaze all you could see was _hurt_ ), on not feeling like your insides might explode if that four letter name touched _her_ lips again.

It went really well, that´s why you got five rounds of whiskey in you.

(It was torture.)

It takes you another ten minutes before you're able to actually feel your feet again and then two more minutes of you staring up at the cloud free sky before you leave the car behind and enter the church.

(It smells just like the one your parents used to take you to.)

The air within these stonewalls is cold and makes the hair on your arms stand ever so slightly. It´s nice, considering that the hall will be filled in a couple of hours, that plus a sun stretching for zenith will be enough to get the temperature up a few degrees. And you doubt that there´s any reliable air condition in this old building.

It´s quiet. Calm. Soothing. You even manage to smile without it being forced. This is Octavia and Lincoln´s day, and nothing will come between them and the happiness they deserve.

If only the quiet wasn't so easily crushed.

“It´s beautiful, O”.

The voice is soft. It´s a bright yellow and blistering fire down your spine. It draws memories of laughter and tears caused by joy out of the shaded parts of your memory, the parts that you've tried your best to drown in alcohol and nights spent worshiping libs, arms and desperate sounds of pleasure.

She sounds happy. Happy as long as you're not there.

(You cannot go through with this.)

A small whisper in your head tells you to breathe easy.

So you do. Even though it hurts more than ever before to be in her presence knowing that you'll never be the cause of her happiness.

(When Lexa later shows up with coffee, wearing a black, tight dress, putting that same smile back on Clarke´s lips, you feel like _running_ back to London.)

\--

_11:00am_

It´s a weird feeling that finds you as the line gathers. Your eyes are fixed right in front of you, and you swing your arms slightly at your sides trying to not be nervous. But all of your senses are occupied by the smell, voice and very presence of _her_. You might have coped earlier when you were getting dressed, mostly by ignoring the way your whole body ached to just be near _her_. Just for a second, without pretending that you don't feel _everything_. Octavia´s nonstop talking about their honeymoon plans made it easier too.

Bellamy falls into your side with a tender smile, His brown eyes are shining with joy and you truly believe that this is one of the best days of his life, even though it must hurt on some level to see the only family member he has left marry into another man's family. They have always been the only ones they've had. Even though they have many close friends, blood is blood and the bond they have is even stronger than that.

“Clarke, can you check my pants”, he says as he lifts his jacket up and angles his back towards the blonde standing behind you in line. You shoot him a look, catching the confused look on the guy behind him - Nyko, one of Lincoln's many cousins. “I could have sat down on something that looked like crumbles”, he continues as an explanation.

Clarke lets out a soft laughter. “Sure”. You don't see it, you feel it, as she takes a step closer, her arms barely brushing against yours. (You're holding your breath in that moment.) When she steps back you don't feel it or see it, this time you hear it - the heel meeting the floor sends another shiver down your back.

(You're convinced that you're going to combust before this day comes to an end.)

“You're fine”, Clarke tells him and Bellamy shakes her arms to let the jacket fall back down, then corrects the sleeves. He looks handsome.

“Thanks”.

When he throws you a look not long after that he´s brow hitches in worry, but you're quick to offer him a comforting smile. Even though you know for a fact that he can read you, almost as well as his younger sister or Lincoln.

“Where´s O?”, you ask and turn around, careful not to look right at Clarke. (God you're beautiful, you think when your gaze floats by her face.)

“Here!”, comes an answer and then follows the sound of tapping heels. “I´m here”, she says again as she stops at the very end of the line. The four of you are all mesmerized by her beauty. Maybe Lexa gets to marry her after all, you think as your lips quirk up into a heartfelt smile. Lincoln might very well faint when he lays eyes on her.

“You are stunning, O”.

Bellamy nods at your side and Nyko´s eyes reflect the smile on your lips.

“It´s not too much?”, Octavia asks and fiddles a little with the fabric of the dress.

“You look perfect”.

Now, you can't help yourself. Your eyes fall on the blonde, even though she is turned away from you and all you can see is her profile. You too, that is what you want to say. What you can´t say. Because it´s not fair, not to you or to her. Nothing seems fair about the two of you, starting with the fact that there´s no _you_ , there are only Raven and Clarke and nothing in between.

Still, it doesn't change that fact that her beauty beats all the stars and the moon.

“She´s right”, Bellamy agrees and Octavia´s cheeks flush with the slightest hint of red. “Shall we?”, he asks and Octavia is quick to nod.

“Yes, let´s get this show on the road”.

You scoff with that same smile still lingering on your lips.

Clarke turns back forward and those blue eyes of her lands right on yours, but they only stay there for a split second before flickering down to your mouth and just as quickly up to your eyes again.

It's almost as if she's asking you something, so you give her the only answer you can bear - a nod.

(When the music starts and Bellamy has you on his arm, you have to force a smile as you walk down the aisle.)

(She stole the real one. Just like that.)

\--

_2:30pm_

Immanuel Kant once said that the rules for happiness were to have something to do, someone to love and something to hope for. Up until this point in your life you've tried your best to live without two of those three rules. The only one you took to your heart was to keep yourself occupied, to the level of extreme. But. Standing in the grand hallway of the hotel, watching the smiles, listing to the laughter, all of which are shared between friends and family, makes you think that you can find happiness. Even without… _that_. You did find something resembling happiness in London, working for Wick at Plan B, living under the same roof as Harper and then moving out to get your own place (although never missing to get a coffee with her at the local coffee shop every Sunday), listening to Atom and Murphy bickering about soccer, teasing Miller. All of that, all of them, provides you with joy and happiness.

You´re surfacing from your thoughts as Octavia breaks out of the crowd, clad as before and now also with a ring on her finger that shimmers in the sunlight. Behind her Lincoln´s laughing with eyes glowing with joy. That same joy still lingers in Octavia's as she stops next to you, arm barely brushing yours.

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you earlier but emh-”, she says and you look at her when she stops, what you find is her gaze looking back into the crowd. When you follow it, something draws a sigh out of you. It doesn't hurt as much now as it did this morning. Or maybe you're simply growing numb of the pain. “Clarke”.

“What did you wanna talk about?”, you ask and turn your eyes back to her.

“That thing that happened last night”. You knit your eyebrows together, unsure of what she´s insinuating. The look on her face as she begins to speak again answers that question. “I'm so so sorry that they cornered you with that whole date thing”.

“O-”.

“No, listen to me. I´m really _really_ sorry I didn't tell her, but I thought that if I did she wouldn´t get over it. She needed to move on and if she thought that you had a reason to be somewhere else, _with someone_ , then she could stop thinking about you”. As Octavia finishes her shoulders fall back into somewhat relaxing position, you hadn't even noticed that she was tense, and she exhales heavily.

“I know”, you tell her. “You did the right thing”.

She nods. Perhaps out of relief. But tension grows visible around her mouth and with it a frown on her forehead. You watch her for a moment, but then your eyes are drawn back to the happiness taking place in the crowd. When she breaks the momentary silence, she does it with an unexpected set of words.

(One out of three. That was what you had, then something… changes as if a flip is turned on.)

(And something that feels like hope crawls out of the darkness somewhere inside your core.)

“That's the thing. I´m not so sure about that anymore”.

“What?”, you reply and she looks a little confused, as if she can't decide on whether or not to tell you but then she opens her mouth to answer.

Your eyes search through here without luck and when she leans forward they are interrupted.

“Come on you two, it's picture time”, Bellamy yells and as the two of turn your eyes towards him you find that the crowd is gathering into a somewhat organized group. Octavia hasn't given you an answer yet, so you jerk your gaze back to her, but she´s already on her way over to her husband.

 _Husband_.

That is a word you'll have to get used to.

\--

_11:50pm_

You found a way to escape the talk, the looks and all the people. If it wasn't for the smell of wax agent for the floors you'd be able to close your eyes and just float away, back to your own apartment, your own bed or even to the office at Plan B. You don't want to run or escape it all, just for a moment or two. Still, leaning back in one of the armchairs in the lobby gives you a chance to just breathe. Since you arrived you´ve walked around with this awkward feeling of everyone just waiting for something to happen, like one of you would snap or cause a scene. Which isn't something you´d do. You´ve grown. You´ve gotten better.

You have changed.

Just not enough to be able to say that you don´t _feel_ something still.

Thinking of London though, that is a whole other problem. It´s always in the back of your head and the more you try to ignore it you feel guilty for not giving a straight answer.

“Hey. How are you doing?”.

You peek up through under heavy eyelids to see Bellamy standing in front of you, hands in his front pockets of his pants, the few top buttons unbuttoned and tired smile on his lips.

“I´m not drunk enough. Does that answer your question?”. He hums in response as he slumps down into the chair across from you. “It feels weird being back here”, you tell him and his eyes stray away from yours.

"Why don't you call it 'home' anymore?".

Your lip is worried in between your teeth. You wonder, how many times you can hurt the people in your life without breaking yourself in half by doing so.

(You'll know soon enough.)

"Because I don't know where my home is", you answer and Bellamy leans in over his knees, hands clasped, eyes dark with thoughts, thoughts you can´t unravel.

(If you only knew that all he wants to do is to jerk you up and out of that chair and shake some sense into you.)

(You wouldn´t mind him doing so.)

When he breathes out you can only wait until he speaks, because god knows you can´t. And so he does and it's another slap to your face. "It's with the people who love you, Raven".

"Yeah, and I got a few of those in London too. More than I got here".

That's not true.

It should be said. But maybe it makes no difference now. So you say nothing at all.

(You'll hate yourself for that later.)

//

_9:24am_

You paint thin and short lines, carefully connecting them with each stroke. At the corner of your eye you form the lines into a discreet wing, almost non-existent, before you go back and smudge out some of the unevenness. As you step back for a final look you pull your phone out of your back pocket. Your eyes are framed with that same eyeliner you used yesterday, only this time it's much more casual. You used a shade of brown eye-shadow to bring out the deepness of the green in your eyes and the thin tones of bronze that hide within that green dark colour. It looks good.

Appropriate.

You laugh a little because this isn't the normal. Normally you wouldn't look this natural at a social event, but it seemed like today was a good day to try it out. It will fit the occasion, you think for yourself as you lean in towards the mirror again to inspect the line of the other eye again.

Simultaneously you unlock the phone and dial the third speed dial number. As the tones go through you leave the bathroom, heading for the bedroom which of course is a mess. Clothes cover the floor and the bed, leaving but only a small track for you to try and place your feet on as you make your way over to the other side of the room.

 _"Hi"_ , Clarke answers with a yawn after a couple of signals. You smile without scoffing at the obvious tone in her voice. Tired and nervous don't blend well together. Especially when you know for a fact that Clarke is neither, on a normal day that is but since this isn't one.

"I'll pick up coffee on the way over".

She moans on the other end which makes your lips quirk up. _"You're my saviour"._

"I could get used to that nickname", you say as you pinch the phone between your ear and shoulder while searching through your jewellery box. You know for a fact that you put that necklace in here. Clarke snickers in the background after hearing you grunt with irritation. Your fingers hook around the silver necklace with that miniature rune hanging from it. It's supposed to signify strength. To you it only holds memories of long nights spent sitting at the dock, feet jiggling over the edge, soft laughter and nose bumping kisses.

Maybe that is strength too in an emotional way.

"Do you need anything else?", you ask as you hold the necklace up in front of you. It's as beautiful as the day you unwrapped that little box and found it in it.

(It holds more strength than you would ever admit openly.)

(More strength than _she_ could possibly imagine.)

Clarke breathes out heavily, for a moment you're almost certain that she'll start crying (which wouldn't be surprising after her breakdown last night), but then she says, _"only you"_ , and her voice is clear from tears and sobs.

She'll be okay. No matter what happens, she'll be okay. You know it.

"I'll be there at 10", you answer with a tender smile playing over your mouth.

_”Okay, see you soon”._

“Sure will”.

You put the phone back into your back pocket. Your eyes are still on the necklace, it´s cold in your hand but slowly heating up to your body temperature in your palm.

“Love is not weakness”, you murmur and the words are familiar to you, but the last time they came from another set of lips and sounded a lot sweeter, less fragile, less needy. The silent _fuck_ that leaves your tongue is louder than an orchestra within your ribcage as the rune finds its place hanging around your neck.

(Today you feel nothing of that strength.)

\--

_11:00am_

You notice the tension. The way Clarke´s shoulders never really relax.

No one else among the guest are probably watching the two bridesmaids as intensely and often as you, but you have your reasons.

So you catch the way their eyes meet and lock for a moment when Raven turns to let Clarke hold the bride bouquet.

Or, how they both jerk their hands away after their fingers touch when Clarke reaches for the bouquet.

Everyone else are busy clapping and howling at the newlyweds as they exit the church hall, but you are watching the blonde as she fixes her gaze to the floor when following Raven out and nothing about her feels right.

(You ignore the vibrations coming from your pocket throughout the whole ceremony.)

(You should know better.)

\--

_9:30pm_

When you offered to be Clarke´s plus one, this wasn't what you expected to be a part of. The few weddings you've been to have been good, most of the time was spent wishing the newlywed happiness and success in their future years in many toasts. Your family have always been big on speeches and talking over all (which you undeniably inherited), so you expected something similar to that and a lot of food (like come on, it´s Lincoln and Octavia, of course there was going to be piles of food).

This however is a feast.

It started off as something beautiful and graceful. Lincoln shares many of his traits with the rest of his family - his calm, discipline, genuine friendliness and most of all his kind eyes - and they all seemed over the moon happy to _finally_ get to meet Lincoln's friends. He however presented you all as an extended family rather than a group of strangers that somehow became friends. You recognized more people than you thought you would, probably because some of them came from the same background as you. It was nice to feel like that again, like you had a connection to _home_ in that way that history and tradition can make you feel.

Perhaps that is why Lincoln and you connected rather quickly when you first met.

You´ve talked to Raven a fair bit. She's just as interesting and unique as the others made her out to be. Well, even more so when your blood isn't boiling with anger. You can´t be angry at her though, you know that, so that's why you sat down with her at the end of the dinner and just _talked_. Raven is a mix of fire and stone - passion and set values. She is also kind, witty and undeniably put under the weight of many responsibilities. After a couple minutes of talking, sharing your background as she shares hers, you could definitely understand what made Clarke fall for her. But also what made her depend on the stability that is Raven Reyes. You can´t imagine what life must have put her through, whatever it was or were Raven certainly turned into someone who has her feet on the ground and keeps her heart out of reach from curious hands.

That's where you are different.

(But oh so the same.)

Most of Lincoln's family dropped off after dinner considering that most of them had children to tuck into bed, the ones reminding are in the same age as the rest of you and just as willingly to turn up the music and share a few more drinks. A few _too many_ more if you're being honest. So now that beautiful and graceful, well it's still beautiful but less graceful, has turned into an extraordinary Saturday night out.

The night is still young when you're all crowded around the bar sipping on a variation of drinks. For once you're happy you didn´t take the car because now you definitely don't have a reason to not let loose. Both Clarke and you need it. You´re not sure who needs it more anymore though. Clarke orders another round of shots and her eyes are slowly becoming glassed over a little bit more by each round. It's vodka. It tastes awful and she laughs quietly at the face you make as you put down the glass.

"Never have I ever!".

Not a second goes by before most of them answer, "no", in unison.

"Come one, it's sort of a tradition", Jasper argues, pouting as you turn around. Clarke shakes her head at your side before she too turns around to lean against the bar.

You hide the amused smile lingering on your lips behind your glass of gin and tonic after taking another sip.

(This is going to be a long night.)

"Fine, Jasper. You start", Lincoln gives in and you can see Octavia elbow him in the ribs in the corner of your eye.

"Never have I ever been to a wedding".

Everyone drinks, but not without shooting him looks of annoyance.

"Lame. Never have I ever cheated", Penn huffs as he puffs up his chest. He seems to be the one other person out of Lincoln´s many cousins that also have tied the knot, and he wears his ring with dignity and pride.

Finn drinks immediately and you furrow your brows at the sight. After him Clarke follows. She won't look up from the glass after putting it back down, fingers fiddling around it in the lack of a table to put it down on. That too confuses you for a moment, but then it falls into place and your eyes flash with sympathy.

"Lexa, your turn", Jasper tells you and you put on a focused face as you search in your mind for a reply.

"Never have I ever... seen the Four Faced Liar".

"Wait, the movie or the tower?", Nyko asks with his glass raised towards you.

"Either works".

You hear someone mumble a silent _what_ and a teasing smile pulls at the corners of your lips.

"Never have I ever had a foursome".

It's thrown out into the air followed by a chuckle. You can't place the voice, probably because of the slight slur to it, which in itself eliminates all of Clarke's friends. It´s probably one of Lincoln's younger cousins, one that still thinks that he can get in on some at the end of the night if he just can figure out who´s the easiest to get into bed. Poor thing. You shake your head at it, meanwhile the younger men in the group seem to find incredibly funny to imagine the possibility of it happening. Poor _things._

(This is one of the moments you'll remember long after you leave the reception.)

Raven is the first one to drink. All eyes turn to her and there's a gasp hanging in the air, but no one says anything about it. Clarke´s face is stoic, but you can feel tension radiating from her body and there´s something very fragile in the way her hand brush against your hip before she hides it behind her, but you catch the glimpse of it turning into a fist in the corner of your eye. There's definitely a difference between thinking that the one you love share one of their most intimate moments with someone they love and that they let more than one person see them in that moment. You take a sip casually without the slightest hesitation and with it you attract Clarke's and Octavia's eyes. Which quickly ends up being _everyone's_ surprised stares.

"What", Clarke sputters and you shrug your shoulders.

You take another sip of your drink and when the glass leaves your lips you shrug your shoulders, as if this is the least interesting thing in the world.

"We all have vices Clarke. Mine happen to be beautiful women", you say and she huffs. "And _sex_ with beautiful women".

(Jasper might have gulped at that. Octavia however eyed you up and down a few times before turning her gaze towards Clarke, but she couldn´t find an answer in either of your eyes.)

"Suppose I've gathered that much", Clarke says with click of her tongue.

"Darling, it was never a secret", you tell her with a wink and she laughs quietly, cheeks blushing and eyes glistening.

God, you love that laughter.

(You don't bother about the suspicious looks the two of you draw to yourselves.)

All you care about is the pinkish colour of Clarke's cheeks when she comes down from laughing and meets your eyes fully. (Well, you do care about something else as well but you'll never own up to it). She'll be okay, you think. She'll be okay, you _know_ it.

(You can´t say the same about yourself.)

(When you break eye contact your eyes find Raven´s and you can't not see how something has broken in them.)

\--

_11:15pm_

You're good at ignoring things. Especially the kind that you don't want to deal with. But life has taught you that all of those things will eventually come knocking on your door if you don't chose to deal with them when you have the opportunity. That's why you're standing here now. One hand clutching to your side with a handful of your dress caught in it, and the other holding on to the phone too hard, knuckles white, eyes shaded with too many memories. You're good at ignoring things.

You´ve never been good at ignoring _her_.

Raven appears as out of air, so you quickly force your lungs to take in a new breath and press down the tears caused by frustration back down into the void in your chest as you lower your hand. Maybe you should be angrier than you are about her lurking around and obviously listening in on your conversation, but to be honest, you're preoccupied with other thoughts and emotions.

"Hey, was that Trigdaleng?", she asks and you are caught off guard by her question.

" _Trigedasleng_. Do you speak it?".

"No, but I know someone who does", she replies and you look at her in surprise, arms coming up to fold over your chest.

"Really? It's not that common. What's their name?".

"She's not from around here. And her name is Anya", Raven replies and your eyes widen at the name.

"You're serious? Anya?", you repeat and Raven nods slightly, face scrunching up into a confused expression. "Anya Stonehill?".

"Yes?".

"She's my cousin", you laugh.

"No kidding".

"Wait, how do you know her?".

Raven opens her mouth to answer, but then closes it again. You watch her stare back at you before she shrugs her shoulders casually. "I just do", she says and walks away before you can ask her anything else.

But you don't need her to say anything else.

"Aha", you mumble to yourself as you unlock your phone and quickly send a message to the other side of the Atlantic.

**Lexa (11:45pm): you're unbelievable**

**Anya (11:47pm): what have I done now?**

**Lexa (11:47pm): only hooked up with Clarke's bff**

**Anya (11:49pm): wait go back, who are we talking about?**

**Lexa (11:53pm): Raven Reyes**

**Anya (11:54pm): oh right the bad as with a bumped leg, she's good**

**Anya (11:54pm): she's really really good**

**Lexa (11:57pm): please tell me you're not dating her**

**Anya (11:57pm): dating??? you´ve gone mad**

You laugh, mostly at the situation. But it quickly fades as the phone starts to vibrate once again as _her_ name flashes bright over the screen.

You´re not good at ignoring the things that hurt you.

//

_9:55am_

It´s torture.

Worse than that even.

You thought that today would feel okay, even after your little meltdown last night, but see, being in the same room as the one person that makes your heart literally want to jump out of your chest at each glance (really, can a pair of eyes be deeper) is far from _okay_. If things couldn't get worse, you're crammed into this room for the whole morning getting ready and her _changing_ in front of you, eyes darting up to meet yours (or more like catching you on staring at her, making you turn away with the shell of your ears turning flaming red) and all you want is to be here and all you desperately need is to be _with_ her.

The night was spent dreaming of _that_ day.

Of the kiss and the consuming desire you felt for her in that moment and long after she ran out of you. Feel. The desire you _feel_ for her.

When Bellamy came into your room to get Octavia and you out of bed, he woke you up right in the moment something tiny and heated rumbled through your body. Luckily neither he nor Octavia noticed the way your cheeks flushed and how you rushed into the bathroom. A cold shower didn´t wash you clean of the memory or dream of two lips making you beg for more and then giving you exactly that.

You though that this weekend could work out okay, that if you focused on being there for Lincoln and Octavia you wouldn´t have time to think about her, but the more time you spend around her the more you feel the emptiness she left behind in your heart. That same emptiness that has been tugging and pulling at your insides, trying to get your attention, forcing you to carry that day with you.

(How could you not have known what that tug meant earlier?)

Lexa´s phone call is ultimately the only thing that brings you back down to earth. Back to not having to look everywhere but where your eyes are drawn. To her.

(After to end the call, it is you that catch Raven staring at you - lips pressed together in right line and those eyes immediately shooting away from yours.)

You count the minutes to when she'll get here, pacing around the room while Raven´s busy helping Octavia with the last few touch-ups with her hair. The glances she shoots you in the mirror makes your chest feel small, or maybe your heart too big.

It´s beyond confusing how she makes your blood buzz when only a couple of hours ago she made you cry yourself to sleep, suppressing your sobs by stuffing your face down into your pillow to make sure that Octavia wouldn´t hear you. Still, your body seems to remember how it used to be, and it's almost like hers does too, because you move around each other without having to say a word. As if there hasn't been over a year since you lived together and got to know each and every single one of one another's habits. You have exchanged only small words, commentaries on Octavia's makeup or dress, still words wouldn't be enough to explain the tension in the room.

(The small smile lingering on Octavia´s lips is a testament to how ridiculous this is.)

(That smile is only a cover.)

The knock on the door makes Raven move over to cover Octavia from prying eyes.

“Yes?”, you call out and step up to the door, ready to jump on it if Lincoln would by any chance actually be the one knocking.

“It´s me”, a voice filled with warmth answer.

And your chest is relieved from the tightness.

As you open the door you almost believe that you hear a silent sigh behind you, but you couldn't care less because two green eyes meet yours.

“I love you”, you breathe as you throw your arms around Lexa and pulls her into your embrace. She laughs against the crook of your neck, lips brushing over the skin and then pulls back with a lingering smile on her mouth.

“I know. Double espresso to you. O, a small latte”, she says as she hands you the takeaway cup and then steps into the room.

“You´re the best”, Octavia answers as she receives a cup of her own. You leave the door on ajar, but turn around as you put the cup to your lips and lets your mouth fill with the wonderfully bitter taste of newly brewed coffee. To your surprise, or rather lack thereof, Lexa walks over to Octavia´s other side. To Raven. Her hand reaches out and in it is a third cup. “Raven, I got one for you too”.

The coffee burns your tongue, but you can't stop watching what´s happening in front of you. There's no need say it - Lexa dislikes Raven just as much as Raven apparently dislikes Lexa - the way they look at each other is enough. Reasons why are something you haven't wrapped your mind around just yet, at least why Raven would feel anything like that towards Lexa.

“No, thank you”.

 

Octavia scoffs and whips her head around. “Oh don´t tell me you´ve quit coffee for tea?”, she replies to Raven´s answer and can finally swallow. Your hand falls slowly, just as slowly as Raven´s shoulders sag as she breathes out.

“Alright, it´s here anyway if you change your mind”, Lexa says and puts the cup down on the table in front of the mirror. She saves a second look over at Raven before turning back to you. “I got to go. You look beautiful”. She makes you smile and when she's at your side she turns around. “And Octavia, if Lincoln by any chance faints up there, can I take his place?”.

Octavia laughs, with a relieved smile lingering on her lips. “Thanks Lex”.

“No problem. And Clarke”.

She turns her attention back to you and you fall into those green eyes.

“Yeah?”.

Her nose crinkles, just like it does when she's about to grin well too big for her own wellbeing. Then she leans into you, hands touching your arms light, making your own hands come up to hold onto her, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Breathe”.

(If only she knew how hard that is.)

(If only she knew that as soon as she leaves the room and brown eyes meet blue ones, setting off a wave of mixed emotions, breathing is out of the question.)

As she leaves and closes the door as she goes, you catch Raven looking at you. This time she doesn´t look away as quickly as before. Maybe she holds your gaze for more than five seconds, less than what your heart desperately craves as it thumbs against your ribcage trying to get out. Yeah. The taste of air has never been as repulsing as it is in this moment.

(Maybe you haven't done much of that this last year at all.)

It's ten to eleven when you find yourself leaning against the wall just outside the doors, doors that are still closed but will open in ten minutes. Hands hidden behind your back so no one will notice how much they are shaking, eyes to the floor to keep you from looking straight forward and right at _her_ , stomach fluttering with excitement and nerves, chest cramped and vibrating with tension as you force down another breath.

“Hey”, Bellamy says as he falls into your side, arm reaching to hook with yours. He tugs gently at you until you lean more fully into his side, lips brushing against your hairline. “You doing alright?”.

(He´s been watching you for five minutes.)

(Whatever you answer, he knows the truth.)

You nod before you tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “I'm fine”, you tell him. But. His brow hitches and his eyes are too kind, too friendly and sweet. And he knows. You exhale heavily and squeeze his arm. A small smile touch upon his lips and your head falls down to his shoulder. He always knows. “Ask me later, okay”.

“Okay”.

\--

_6:00pm_

The atmosphere in the dining hall is beyond uplifting. Every single person that you've met today have been so nice and happy. More than that, everyone seem to think that this day couldn't have come any later. Octavia has made an impression on Lincoln's family, especially his parents who both clearly adore her. It makes you grin to think about it, the thought that little asskicking Octavia can make people like Lincoln's parents light up with such joy. She sure is fierce, but even more lovely and kind. Those are the traits that people fall in love with, the others are those they'll learn to appreciate when they are put in distress or threatening situations and Octavia comes to their rescue. She's strong like that. More than she probably knows.

You slink around the corner, out of reach from any noise. Well until you don't have to rise your voice to be heard. Only then do you pull out your phone out of your purse. You flip through the contacts until you reach ‘J’. After dialling the number you lean back against the cold wall and close your eyes as the first, second and third signal go through

_”Hey you”._

“Hi”, you breathe, a smile touching your lips. “So, I´m calling as I promised”.

 _”Yeah. You're getting better at this_ , Wells answers and you can hear the lightness to his voice. He´s right - you're getting better with calling him. You talk almost twice a week nowadays. It´s easier now too, his voice does still remind you of home and your father, but it doesn't send shivers down your spine anymore. _Aren't you at wedding? You should be drinking and dancing._

“Well, we always talk at this time so”, you argue and he scoffs on the other end. “What's you're up to?”.

When you come back into the dining hall your eyes (almost sarcastically) land on black hair and dark eyes. Raven's face is glowing with joy, laughter spilling from her lips in that pure way that reaches her eyes. It almost diminishes all of the hurt that lays within them. Your own lips pull up at the sight of her, of her happiness, and you don't feel the slightest bit bad about it.

The quiet beating of your heart quickens in that moment, but settles back into its normal rhythm when your eyes fall from _her_ face.

(You almost believe it - that things can be better - but just almost.)

(That beating heart of yours is already filled with smouldering hope.)

\--

_10:45pm_

Finn comes walking towards you, fingers fumbling to unbutton the button on his blazer, round on his feet he stops just in front of you and reaches out with his hand. “Can I have this dance?”, he asks.

The two of you have barely talked all day. Not that you've been avoiding him. Not really anyway. You miss him. Being with him. Walking around town, talking about nothing, watching the people on the street from your table at The Busy Bean through that painted window. So when you look at him now, hand reaching out, eyes kind, hair messy after dancing like a lunatic with Jasper and Monty earlier, you take it.

“Yes”.

The music has slowed down, so Finn pulls you in and holds you close enough for your chests to flush together every once and awhile. His left hand on your lower back is firm and stops you from stepping out of his arms, the other is holding your right one in a gentle grip. You can feel the muscles of his shoulder move, how every tug and pull makes them shift when he steers you in one way or another in a slow waltz. He´s good at leading, you´ll have to give him that.

“So, what do I need to know”, he says suddenly and your head jerk up. You immediately notice the way his straw from yours and the way his lips are pressed together.

“What are you talking about?”.

“Come on Clarke, I have eyes, I can see the way you look at her”.

“Finn-”, you start but he interrupts you and those eyes of his, the ones that used to look at you with warmth and love, almost pierce through you as they look on yours.

“Just tell me. Is it true?”.

“Is what true?”.

He laughs hollowly with his head whipping to the side. Your stomach tightens at his behaviour and you try to push away from him in the next step, but he pulls you even closer. Then, he looks back at you. His voice is cold, bitter, puncturing when he finally answers you. “That you _fucked_ her”.

First you wonder who he's talking about.

(It doesn't matter.)

Then you put one and two together and you realize that he can't be talking about any other than _her_.

(Which makes you squirm with anger.)

“Excuse you?”.

You refuse to move and he doesn't try to force you, even though his hands are still on you and holding you tight. Much too tight than you´d like. He says nothing. Only stares at you, as if he believes that he can drag the answer he wants out of you with his bear eyes. Only, you don't have an answer and even if you did you wouldn´t give him the pleasure of knowing it.

His fingers press into the small of your back and his lips part as you resist his attempt to pull you impossibly closer to his body.

Bellamy appears by your side in a blink of an eye and Finn immediately lets you step back. The heart in your chest beats heavy with distress and your hands clutch into fists at your sides. You don´t run. You don´t. Even though you would like to get as far away as possible from Finn in this moment. Bellamy reaches out to you, fingers brushing against your wrist gently without trying to grab you. “Clarke, would you mind?”, he asks and your eyes jerk up to him. When he nods relief fills your chest.

You let out a trembling exhale. "Please".

“ _I_ do mind, thank you very much”, Finn cuts in.

The shift in Bellamy's eyes is visible and when he turns them towards Finn tension contours them.

“I think you're done, Finn”, Bellamy says and steps in front of him, giving Finn his back.

Your eyes stay on Bell's, almost as you're trying to absorb his calm through eye contact, until Finn walks away muttering under his breath. He leaves and your eyes flutter close for a second. The thought hasn't occurred to you before, mostly because you were trying to not feel anything at all or at the best not what hurt to feel, but hearing Finn´s anger takes a toll on your thoughts. As if in a flashback you remember the night you came to him and practically forced yourself on him, how you just needed to feel but not _feel_ and the only person that could make that possible for you was him, and then how he told you that it wouldn't happen again. When he said it all those weeks ago you thought it was because he was moving on, that he didn't want to get involved with your crazy anymore. Maybe, just _maybe_ it was because he couldn't be with you anymore. Maybe, he felt just as hurt being with you as you do being around Raven. And now when _she´s_ here he´s reminded of it too, of how you walked away.

Bell turns his head to watch him go, scoffing before he returns to watching you. Only, your eyes has fallen to the floor. “You okay? Clarke”, he tries and you hear him, but you don't hear him because your head is suddenly filled with moss.

You shake your head in an attempt to clear your mind.

“What?”, you ask him.

“I asked if you were okay”. Once again, you hear his voice but the words fall into a blackness. “What is it?”. You´ve been so hurt. And _you_ have hurt others too. “Clarke?”, Bellamy's voice finds its way through the blackness and you jolt back into your own skin. He´s eyes are on yours, searching as they flicker over your face and back to your eyes.

“I need a minute”, you mumble as you turn around and start to walk away from him.

You only make it a couple of steps before you feel pressure over the small of your back and then the shape of hand gently steering you out of the room. When you don't step away from the touch Bellamy pulls you to his side as he walks you to the far end of the hall.

"Together".

“Thank you”, you breathe the words heavily and he nods encouraging.

He stays by your side until you´ve gotten yourself out of your head, careful not to let his hands leave either your back or arm, and you didn't know that you needed him as much as you do.

(It´s a lie - you've known for months and months.)

\--

Bellamy walks you back in, one arm securing you to his side and your head on his shoulder in an awkward position, but all you need is to be close to him for a moment longer. He stops just within the doors and you look up to him, to find his eyes softening and your eyes follow his.

Lexa.

She has her hands down folded behind her, eyes looking you up and down just like they did yesterday after dinner and you love her. She´s wearing a blazer, probably provided by one of Lincoln's cousins in hope of getting closer to her. (Boys tend to do that around her - hope for more than she'll ever give them). You love the way she understands without asking. How she steps up to you, relieving Bellamy from his duty. Maybe that should make you feel worse - for being watched. But. All that you are is grateful for having friends, for having a _family_ , that knows you enough to see through you walls.

Bellamy exhales heavily and you lift your head off of his shoulder, his eyes find yours and they make you soften too. “Let me know if you need anything. Both of you”, he says and places a kiss to your head.

“I got her”.

Both Bellamy and you turn to Lexa at that. Bellamy nods, but his arms around your waist holds you tighter, then he walks away leaving Lexa to take his place.

Her face is stoic, but those eyes of her are mirrors to all of her emotions and right now they are worried crazy. “You okay?”, she asks and you know better than to lie to her.

You _can't_ lie to her.

“No. But I will be?”.

It's not meant as a question, but it puts a small smile on her lips. And maybe that can be enough for now. She leans her forehead against your temple and breathes out, her breath tickling your neck and cheek. Yeah, this is definitely enough.

“Yeah, you'll be okay”, she whispers and you are starting to believe her.

(You´ve finally found someone who's more stubborn than you.)

You feel her frown before you see it, before you see her phone flashing bright between your bodies as she pulls it out of the pocket of the blazer. The thoughtful lines forming on her face worry you and you reach out to lace your fingers together with hers.

“How long?”.

She sighs and looks up from the screen. You know that face all too well. “All day”, she says and it sounds like a confession. Perhaps it is one this time.

“Lex”.

“I know. I´ll take care of it”.

She too places a kiss on your head before leaving your side, her fingers sliding over the screen before she lifts her hand up to her ear, you hear her answering with a bothered tone to her voice before she disappears out of hearing range.

You need a drink.

\--

_11:38pm_

“Third year is going to kick ass. Probably mine to start with”, Monty laughs and your lips form an easy smile. Monty then nods as his eyes flicker to something behind you, “hi Raven”, he exclaims.

When the name meets you turn your head to find Raven approaching the two of you. She meets your gaze for a moment, tongue reaching out to wet her lips and then her head turns around.

"So where's your date?", she asks, voice thick with disliking and lack of interest.

Monty excuses himself swiftly by mumbling something about getting another piece of cake. As he leaves Raven takes his place, swearing a little as she straightens out her legs. The motion is so familiar to you after all the times she used to come home after a long day or a night out and slump down into the couch, face wincing as she used to rub the pain away from her knee after taking off the brace. She hides it now - the pain. But you know it's there.

You fiddle with your napkin, eyes falling down to your hand, stomach tightening with a kind of numbing feeling. You give it another minute before you take a deep breath and lift your gaze back up to meet Raven's brown one. She's beautiful. And you wonder if that will keep hurting like it does right now.

"Probably somewhere around here on the phone with her girlfriend", you finally answer and Raven's eyes go blank. The mix of emotions and thoughts are on dispel any in those brown and deep eyes, just before her face scrunch up into something that reminds you of her laughing her as off at Jeff Dunham. Which of course doesn't make any sense. But. It makes you laugh a little, that face has always made you laugh. "What's that look?".

She licks her lips, slowly, far too slowly for you to _not_ look down at her lips. When her hand comes up to run through her hair you quickly jerk your eyes back up to hers. "I thought you and her...", she starts but the words die out and you have to pick up to pieces yourself.

"Oh, no, we, don't", you reply in between laughs. She actually looks relieved at that. Just as relieved as you felt when you found out that she wasn't dating anyone last night. "We're just friends. I didn't want to go alone, she offered to go with me”. She nods in understanding and a quiet falls over the two of you. You can feel it, the ache, the wanting to reach out and just touch her hand or knee, just feel her touch again. But you don't cross over that line. You can't. It wouldn't be right. “So here we are", you mumble when the silence becomes too much for you to handle.

"Please tell me that I'm not the only one thinking that this is rushed", she replies and you scoff without thinking.

"You're not”, you say and she hums. "I think it's rushed but honestly, they would have ended up here at some point anyway so why not now. They just love each other".

"Yeah, I do know".

It´s unsaid. Hell. What isn´t unsaid when it comes to the two of you. But, that sentence. Those four words are something else. They stir up something that feels old and new at the same time. They rip open a wound inside of you that could never close completely. And you draw for breath, even though your chest aches for something just as essential as air.

"Raven-".

"I heard about Finn and all that. I hope it wasn't because of-", she interrupts and you laugh hollowly as she mentions Finn´s name and then the words fall off of your tongue so easily it should frighten you.

"Of course it was because of that. Partially, at least. Mostly the lack of love I felt for him, but also the fact that you changed something".

You see the tension over her forehead, but it doesn't break out into a frown. Instead she shakes her head and seems to reconsider how to reply to what you just said.

"What, what did I change?", she finally says and you don't laugh this time.

"Me. You changed me". Her eyes scan your own and you hope, _wish_ , that she finds something, _anything_ , that will earn you her forgiveness for driving her away, for being reckless with the friendship you had. But when you've started, you can´t stop. "I slept with him", you stutter and this time she leans back in her chair, tension moving from her face down through her neck until it has tensed up her shoulders. "With Finn. After the break-up", you explain.

As if it needed an explanation.

"Why?".

"I found out that you'd been home over New Year's".

That gives you the clearest reaction you've seen from her this far - a gasp.

It´s practically unnoticeable, but you catch the way she gulps afterwards. And when you do she looks away, giving you her cheek.

"You know, the only reason I came back was because you weren't going to be here", the look on her face makes you believe for a second that she didn't mean to say that, that it just slipped out, but the pain that vibrates in your core doesn't care about reasons (pain is pain just the same). "I couldn't face coming back here if I knew that you'd be around", she says and her head turns slowly until her eyes find yours again.

"Oh". That is the only thing that comes out of your mouth. But it isn't the only thing on your mind. “Do you still feel like that?", you ask and she breathes out heavily enough for the air to brush against your face.

When she leaves you with the quiet something cracks, like you actually had something whole left inside of you.

(The next time you lay eyes on her, minutes after that conversation, she's ordering a second round of tequila.)


	3. Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It´s the last day. The last chance to make it all right, or at the very least correct all the wrongs. Raven and Clarke finally talk, Lexa struggles with her own relationship, Bellamy is the all-around gentleman, Octavia and Lincoln protect their family, and Finn... is no longer relevant.
> 
> Mixed POV´s

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright this is the last chapter of the wedding weekend. Whether or not this is the actual last part of the series is up to you. Don´t forget to leave a comment! - Em

_12:03am_

It might be the momentary silence that makes you let loose. To simply not _think_ for a while. 

Bellamy has kept you talking, carefully, but far from casually, avoided all subjects that may or may not be connected to her with the big _H_. It´s nice. You'll admit that. To just listen and talk, to not have to answer questions that end up causing you to swallow back every other word in fear of letting on too much. Yet again, you're not sure what _too much_ is around these people. You are starting to believe that there never was a too much to begin with.

“You're coming home with me, right?”. Your eyes shoot up at his question and he shrugs his shoulders in understanding as he says, “Clarke's sleeping at Lexa’s”.

Of course she is, you think.

You´re not really surprised. This whole weekend has been planned out, from the first hour to the last. They have coordinated everything perfectly. Made sure that you won't have to be close to each other more than necessary. Still how could you possibly avoid each other, first with the wedding ceremony and now this, and when it comes down to it it´s not _her_ that makes you feel so lost and confused. Not _only_ her.

You scoff as you run your hand through your hair. “As long as you cuddle me”.

“Oh I promise”, he answers with a wink and the short laugh that rolls of your tongue is hollow and fake. 

Bellamy has kept you talking, but haven't said a word of what you know he's carrying around behind those proud and strong eyes. You weren't here when it happened, but that doesn't mean that the word of it didn´t reach you. Perhaps that's one of the reasons you've been able to relax in the silence, because that means he isn't on the verge of bringing it up. You’re similar in that way - determined to keep the pain in. But. You know, from experience, that it shouldn't be like this. 

So you break the silence before you have time to change your mind.

“Why didn't you call me?”.

He´s face stays calm. His eyes stay on yours. Nothing changes, apart from the way he breathes out heavily before sliding further back in his seat. “Raven”, he begins and licks his lips before he continues, “I didn't want to push that on you. You´ve had enough to deal with”.

“So you thought that I'd ignore you?”.

“No, the opposite”, he´s quick to reply with a furrowed forehead, almost looking offended by your question. (He is.) “I thought that you´d get on the first flight here and I didn't want to make you do that”, he tells you and you sigh as the blame hits you like a slap to your face.

“Bell I-”.

“I needed you to get better. We _all_ needed you to be able to come home, by your _own_ choice”.’

His words are carried by worry. You see it in those brown eyes. Your friendship was fast and promising, but you left and with it you left that opportunity behind. Even though it haven´t been a day without you thinking of all of them, all of the people that you would have called friends if you hadn't left them behind, you know that you hurt more than you want to see. Even though it matters that you are here now, some wounds are deeper and will take more than just a few days to heal. Days that you can´t promise. Time that you can´t give him here and now, but you can give him a fraction of it.

So you do.

“Well, I'm here now so I expect to be brought up to speed”, you say with a serious face before you let yourself relax and smile ever so slightly.

He laughs and shakes his head, bottom lip worried between his teeth. He then nods and smiles too (and you feel the warmth in your chest for a second before it fades into something painful). “I´ll tell you all about her”, he tells you.

You listen with all that you got. However small that might be. When he ends you excuse yourself, ignoring the worrying in his eyes, and leave him sitting there in the lobby.

Your legs carry you outside, to the warm breeze and night sky. It´s beautiful and peaceful. It takes a few minutes before you manage to move away from the entrance, when you do you find the open patio right outside the grand hall. With eyes fixed at the black sky and its shimmering stars you lean over the railing.

For what it's worth, the darkness soothes you.

Perhaps because you´ve grown so familiar to it.

\--

_2:48am_

Bellamy pushes the door open. He´s a little unsteady on his feet, but steadies himself against the doorframe before entering the apartment, with you close behind ready to catch him, worst case scenario. He grumbles something as he kicks of his shoes and you roll your eyes as the second one hits the wall. 

“That last one really got to you, hu?”.

He turns around, still walking towards the living room, now _backwards_ , face crumbled up into a serious frown.

“You've had at least as much as me”, he answers with a pointing finger at you.

“Yes, but I can handle my liquor. Can't say the same about you”, you reply as you hurry over to his side when he stumble backwards, hands reaching out for his to so he can steady himself. He grunts and narrows his eyes, wrinkles taking for over his forehead. You smile without thought. This is not how you saw this weekend ending or the two of you ever interacting. Bellamy rarely drank as far as you recall, other than that night you two met.

“I've missed you, Rae”, he mumbles, his breath hot and heavy against your cheek, like it was something he'd been holding in.

“Bell-”.

“Cheese”.

A stomach fluttering laugh rolls off your tongue without warning. “What?”, you sputter in between breaths.

“We have some and I want some”, he explains as he lets go off you to make his way over to the fridge, your eyes watching him closely, lips still stained by that laughter he caused. After a lot of grunting and fumbling around he makes a sound of victory as he shows off the package of string cheese in his hands. You take the opportunity to take of your shoes during his little quest and then lean back against the wall. His makes a another sound, this one much more similar to a moan, and the thought of whether or not it would count as a death wish to pick up your phone and record him crosses your mind. “Do you have a boyfriend?”, he then asks and your eyes dart up to his, but those brown eyes of he´s doesn't give away if he´s serious or not.

“Is this the vodka talking”, you reply, one hand coming up to run through your hair.

“Girlfriend?”.

You sigh. Not by any means by choice, it´s more drawn out of you. Leaving your shoulders to fall and your hands itching at your sides. “No, I don't have either of those”, is the answer you give, eyes closing for a moment. When they open again and find their way to his, you find him looking at your with narrowed eyes, one arm flung over the door of the fridge to hold him up and the other drumming against his thigh.

“Fuckbuddie?”.

“Are you volunteering, Blake?”, there's nothing suggestive in your voice, just as little as it is in his eyes.

“I could, if you wanted me to”, he replies and closes the fridge. His steps are as unsteady as before when he walks up to you, but he´s more aware of his surroundings and steadies himself against on one of the kitchen chairs on his way. He leans in with his side against the wall, inches from your body, his eyes still narrowed and searching as they hold onto your gaze. “You don't want me to”, he murmurs and you release the breath you didn't know you were holding in. You're quickly reminded of his extraordinary way of looking straight through you, no matter what state either of you are in. It's not as painful this time, it's not like you´ve said the words or that you've had to confess it to yourself all over again, but it still _feels_ to know that he knows. Your eyes leave his, your heart thumping hard and slow against your ribcage, head filled with that storm once again (did it even cease in the first place?). It´s the tender caress of Bellamy's hand over your cheek that brings you back to him and those brown eyes of his. They reflect the pain flowing through your veins and you think for a moment that you are not as unlike each other than you´d think. His hand stops just below your mouth, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip as those eyes of his pierce through yours. “Do you want me to?”, he murmurs.

There's not a single part of your being that isn´t sure. Not a single doubting cell can be found in this body of yours.

You reach for his hand, hold it gently in yours for a moment, examining it with your eyes before looking back to his awaiting gaze. A lot can happen in a year. But. This is just the same. He´s cheek is slightly stubbly and his breath his still hot against your face. Your lips linger on his skin for another moment, because this is easy. Although it´s hard as hell, it´s easy. With him, this is easy. His lips are covered by a happy, childish smile when you pull away. 

“Sleep tight, Bell”, you tell him and give him a light shove towards his room. He mumbles something as he turns but doesn't protest to your intention.

You're on your way to turning yourself and retreat to the couch. (Even if he might have mention more than twice than you were more and welcome to take either his bed or Clarke´s, you won´t do that. Sleeping in her bed would feel like trespassing on her personal space and life, a life you no longer have a part in.) But then you are jerked to a stop by a whisper.

“Don't run off again. Please”.

It´s not said to your face. He barely says it at all, but it's loud enough for your heart to hear and tremble in response. Your gaze shoots back to him and his hand disappears from where he'd been steadying himself on it against the doorframe.

I won´t, you think as the door closes behind him.

\--

_5:30am_

The couch is uncomfortable beyond belief. How anyone could possibly get any sleep on this thing is a wonder to you as you turn over on your side for the billionth time. With a sigh you feel your whole body protest to this position as well. The darkness isn't soothing either. It feels just close and penetrating. Or perhaps that just you imaging it (because the scent in the air makes your muscles ache with the memory of that same scent). It takes another few minutes of tossing and turning before you give up and sit up.

It´s quiet. Apart from the muffled sound of a car speeding down the street outside there's really not anything else. It´s new to you. It´s seems like your whole life has been invaded by sounds, whether you're working or killing time in your own apartment, there's always something to listen to and take in. But not here.

With trained hands you strap on the brace and support yourself on your good leg as you stand up. If you´re not going to sleep you can at least get up and move around for a bit. If only you could forget about where you are and whose scent it is that keeps flashing by you. Like these days haven't been bad enough in her presence, now you have to breathe her in too even though she's far from actually being here. It´s a cruel joke. That is what it is.

It´s out of self-respect you get dressed and sneak out of the apartment.

The air outside is chill and awakening. It's dark too, but the streetlights keeps it from filling up the whole city. This is soothing. The city and it´s silence but not so quiet humming during the night hours. With all of that invading your senses you feel yourself relaxing again. Since you moved to London and started working on different hours, more like living on different hours, you've learned to appreciate the night and how it wanders through the city. Maybe that appreciation started even before you moved, you can´t remember exactly. All you know is that this feels better than being trapped up there with all of… _her_ and the memories she evokes.

You walk aimlessly through the streets. Your mind haven´t been his calm since you landed on Friday and it´s almost worrying now how little you think. Although you've left most of who you were behind, being back here makes you wonder. _If´s_ and _why´s_ crawls out of the repressed parts of your thoughts you've buried deep down under new memories and experiences. And even though it's quiet inside you, the quiet has a voice as well and after some amount of time it speaks up, throwing you back into the skin and mind of the girl you gave up that day you took the first and best flight out of here.

A better person might call it intuition. 

You'd call it insanity. 

Still, it´s too familiar to not let those feelings fill you up for just a moment. It´s like they've already made a permanent place within you. They leave just as breathless as you remember being back then, but they don't hurt as much now, or have you just gone numb by the low frequency of the vibration rolling through one limb after another. The concept of feeling with your whole body had been foreign to you until this moment and it pulls you to a stop.

The sunlight hits you with a warm and gentle hand, caressing your face ever so softly.

And it hurts.

Like a venom being sucked out of you through one breath. When new air fills up your lungs you feel just as before. Nothing has changed. Yet, the thought of coming back doesn't scare you as much. Some claim that time heals all wounds. You´ve never been one of those people. God knows, you've been hurting since you were sixteen and none of those wounds have ever not bled. You didn't lie when you told Clarke that you had been lost but had been in need of losing yourself completely, none of that was a lie, and you did lose yourself. Running away from all of your doubts and feelings, leaving them behind in hope of getting rid of them, all of that was your screwed up way of losing and ultimately giving up who you were. What you didn't expect was how good it would feel to do it and how bad you would fall when those feelings caught up with you. Running away just gave you time, an insignificant amount of time, before all of what you were running from would fall back into you through all the wounds you never let heal.

You didn´t lie.

But you left out the fact that you still hadn't found yourself again. Not completely anyway. And coming back here wasn't your last try at it either. Coming back, you were terrified that you´d end up on square one again. You didn´t. You have not ended back on square one.

You breathe out with lips wet, your mouth filling with the taste of your tears.

You didn't lie to her.

But you lied to yourself when you believed that coming back would destroy you again. When in fact this was all you needed. You might not know where you belong in this world, where you should be or what you´re supposed to do with your life. But this, this is home. Not the city or the streets that you've walked over and over again. Home is where you´re heart has been all this time and it is where it will stay even after you've left once again.

\--

_2:03pm_

Coming back to the apartment Bellamy met you at the door, brows furrowed in that expression of worry and anger that stirred up old emotions in your core. The same mixture of emotions you found more than once in Lincoln's eyes last year (and Clarke´s at one point). You expected a lecture, but instead he threw his arms around you and held you tight to his chest. He mumbled words of affection and comfort, even though his voice was cracked with that same anger. You knew in that moment that even though he'd been less than sober the yesterday, his last plea was as honest as he could ever have been. You couldn't answer him. Not when he had you in his arms. Instead you took your time, ate with him, let him say all the things he wanted or needed to say. You listened with all of your heart and you put off that moment that undeniably would come until the very last minute.

Until now.

You run both hands through your hair fingers locking at the back for a moment before you put it up with easy hands. The ponytail falls down over your neck, barely reaching your shoulder blades. There´s a heaviness to your core. Not an aching one, but it's there and you _feel_ it deep in your bones. Goodbyes have never been something you're good at. You avoid them as best you can. Coming back here, you didn´t expect that to change. It hasn´t. But it has. A deep sigh leaves your lips. Eyes closing to avoid the screaming emptiness of the paper in front of you. The frustration makes your hands tremble and you try to shake it out of them before you open your eyes, it doesn´t work. You have to do it. If not for that weak and close to non-existent hope in your gut, then for the girl you were and the blonde one you fell in love with. 

It seems like a lifetime has passed since then and still, it hasn't even been a day.

What you end up writing is short. Perhaps too short. Too simple. It's the only words you can think of that doesn´t catch in your throat or taste bitter on the tip of your tongue. Your ears ring with what you only can imagine is the sound of panic as it rumbles through your body. The words are few and insignificant. It can barely count as a message considering how much more there is inside of you. It's short and says absolutely nothing at all, at least it shouldn´t to anyone who isn't either of you. 

You pray that it´s enough, that she'll understand and not hate you even more after this.

The door to her room has been closed since you entered the apartment and you don't dare to open it. Won´t cross that boundary or put yourself in that position of having to _see_ that side of her. You´ve already seen too much. It´s with a held breath causing that ringing in your ear to cease and be replaced by the steady beat of your thumping heart that you slide the note under her door. 

When it disappears from your sight it´s too late to regret it.

Luckily there's no time for anything else than to leave and that is for the best.

Bellamy comes out of his room in time to watch you put on your shoes and you avoid his gaze with purpose. Even though every single part of your being wants nothing more than to look at him and get that one last good look at him. One last image to save and keep for all those long days when you miss _home_.

When you're finally ready to go you allow yourself to look up and the empty creeps up on you in that same moment.

“Are you sure about this?”, he asks with his hands down his pocket, eyes looking at you with that insecurity you've never found fitting for his big and bold personality.

“It´s not a goodbye Bell”, you tell him with a reassuring smile. “It´s a ‘see you soon’”.

“You better stick to that”.

“I promise”. That is all you can say. All that you bear to say, before you have to erase the distance between the two of you. His arms catch you and wraps around you in a tight embrace. Your lungs take in his scent whilst your hands try to memorize the way his shoulders feel under them. Your heart can only try and remember how this safety felt like once you're gone again. “I love you”.

The three words leave your tongue without hesitation.

“I love you too”, he answers with his lips brushing against your temple. He kisses the top of your head before letting go. You already feel a little bit cold once his arms no longer hold you. He nods, hands reaching back down into his pockets. “Text me when you land”.

“Will do”, you say, the promise unsaid but understood in the quiet that follows.

He doesn't follow you down to the cab. You asked him not to. It would just have made everything harder, a little too real and dawning. At least not you can pretend that it's okay for another twenty minutes before you'll have to say the real goodbye.

//

_12:30am_

You're scrolling through the gallery on your phone. It´s a handful of pictures, mostly of Bellamy doing a silly face at the camera with you in the background totally unaware of him taking yet another selfie. A smile melts onto your lips, spilling over into a laughter at the sight of Bellamy trying to mimic a grumpy Octavia with too much of a pouting lip. He can be such a clown when he´s in the mood for it. That laughter still lingers all over your face when Octavia pulls out the chair next to you, her dress now more than a little creasy and her makeup slightly smeared out around the eyes. What's even more eminent about her is the glow from her brown eyes - the glow of cheer joy and happiness. 

Beautiful.

That is the only word you can think of, the only one that comes even close to feeling right, still even that is too small to describe her beauty.

She looks around, turning in her seat until she's covered all her angles. “Have you seen Bell?”, she then asks and those brown eyes land on you, filling you up with only a sip of that joy. It´s enough to make you feel lighter.

“Not for a while. Have you checked the bathrooms? Maybe he's finally getting laid”.

She scoffs as she leans back against the back of the chair, fingers toying with the hem of the table cloth. “I wish”, she replies and you can't help but smile again.

This is what life should feel like, you contemplate. It should be this enjoyable.

(It's second nature for you to be happy for others.)

(You still haven't mastered the skill of giving yourself the chance to do the same for yourself.)

Only a second later Lexa appears at table, fumbling nervously with her phone, face neutral, eyes filled with storms. She looks at you once clearly and then away, but that is all you need to see through the clouds and the fake stillness in her expression.

"What's with the face?", you ask, catching Octavia´s attention and turning it towards Lexa.

The other girl sighs and walks around the table, one hand still holding the phone and the other brushing past the other chairs, until her hand lands on your shoulder. She presses down lightly and you immediately sense the tension in her body. 

"Could you remind me again of why the hell I agreed on trying this long distance thing. _Again._ ", she mumbles and ends with a deep sigh.

"That bad?".

"Worse". You grab her hand lingering on your shoulder and squeeze it tightly in your own.

"Back the hell up", Octavia cuts in with her hands flailing in the air. You bite your lip, careful not to smile because that might just cost you your life. Your hand retracts and you situate yourself for what you expect could turn into an interrogation. Octavia stops, both hands still in the air, face scrunched up in an extremely confused stare directed above you, most likely focused at Lexa. "You're in a relationship? With… _someone_ else?".

You lean back, the back of your head pressing into Lexa´s stomach, to look up at Lexa. She doesn't seem as concerned about her life considering there´s a teasing smile pulling at the corner of hers mouth. She´s has a different kind of humour that one.

"Why didn't you say anything?", Octavia continues and you're forced to meet her stare yourself and you do so without moving your head more than to angle it back down, still pressed against Lexa´s stomach.

"It wasn't my place", you answer with a shrug of your shoulders, casing Lexa to move her hand off of you. She stays just as close though, only now with both of her hands placed on the back of your chair. You sense the vibrations rolling through Lexa´s abdomen, but the laughter doesn't reach the air. Still, it spreads from her over to your own body and you let out a short laugh before swallowing it back down. "I still don't understand how you could think that we were sleeping together".

"Yeah, if that was the case you really wouldn't have been able to miss it", Lexa adds and Octavia's eyes widen yet even more. She looks like she's just realized that the earth is round after a lifetime of believing that it's flat. Which could annoy you after all the times you've told her that nothing was going on between Lexa and you, but you let it slide, mostly because all you want to do is laugh at how shocked she seems. "To your defence, it's been off and on for a year so there wasn't much to tell".

You bite the inside of your cheek, knowing that there a whole lot that could be told about Lexa´s relationship, but it's not up to you to say anything at all - which is why you didn't say anything even though they've all had suspicions about the two of you.

Octavia narrows hers eyes at you and that look is even more ridiculous than the one before.

When she gets up from her chair you're about seventy five percent certain that she'll cuss you off in Trigedasleng which is the last drop to you keeping that laughter in. Instead of doing that she stands tall and shakes her head ever so slightly with those eyes piercing yours.

"I'm still pissed, just so you know", she says as she turns and leaves you sitting there trying your best not to laugh.

(She'll bust your ass for t it he coming months, over and over again.)

(Lexa and you will never really stop joking about it.)

Lexa’s gaze follows Octavia as she walks around you until she stands beside the chair Octavia sat in, when it finds its way back to yours she’s grinning annoyingly big. "That was fun".

You scoff in response. "I can't wait for Bellamy to find out". That in itself will be award worthy. "Thank you", you continue.

"What for?".

"You know what", you say and tilt your head to the side. 

Those green eyes look back at you and then she nods. (Although, she moves her weight from one foot to the other, back and forth. She won't say it, but she doesn't know how to deal with gratefulness. Just one other thing you cherish about her.) You're not really surprised, Lexa is greater than she lets on, bigger than what she allows herself to become, but you've seen past the quick comebacks and witty replies. She's the only one you know that would do that, without blinking, without thinking about consequences or rumours, the only one that would draw attention to herself to save someone else's face. Save _Raven's_ face. Lexa is a one girl kind of girl, whether she likes it or not, so when she drank and then replied the way she did you knew that it was all just an act. 

“When do you want to leave?", you ask as you look around the room, pretty much all of Lincoln’s family has left and the ones that decided to stay are all the same age as you, which explains why no one has protested to the various drinking games that have their share of rounds.

Lexa sighs. "I need to get drunk before I can answer that question". 

She heads straight for the bar and you can only shake your head as you watch her go. You should go with her and get equally as drunk, you both definitely need a night off. But when your head snaps to the left when a cold breeze brushes by you, you find the door to the patio open, so you go to close it. Only, when you look out your eyes land on the person leaning over the railing.

You should have learned by now, even dogs learn not to go near the fence if they've been stung with electricity before. You should know better, or maybe it's because of that that you close the door behind you and slowly walk over to her side. When you stand next to her, not close enough to touch her, but close enough you feel that suspense awakening somewhere in your core. Her eyes are focused, traveling over the sky with a calmness in them that sparks up memories of sleepy nights in front of the TV with the two of you sharing a blanket. (That was a long time ago.)

(For the first time this weekend you ask yourself: Who is she?)

(If only you could hear your heart whispering an answer back to you.)

"It's amazing". She almost breathes the words. They sound like an extension of the look in her eyes.

"What is?", you dare to ask, unable to actually look up at what she's mesmerized by.

"How little it changes. No matter where you are in the world, the sky looks the same, there are only fractions of changes in the placement of the stars", she explains and you listen you every single word as you turn your face up to the sky and watch the many stars shining down at you. "No matter how far away I am from home, the sky looks the same".

"Where?".

Her jaws locks almost immediately. You watch it happen and then her trying to relax again. She licks her lips, and damn you for looking down at them if only for a second, before she exhales heavily. A good try at letting go of that tension. She isn't fooling you. 

"What?".

"Where is your home, Raven?", you ask and angle yourself more fully towards her.

She hesitates, opens her mouth almost on the second the question has left your lips but then closes it again. Her lips press together tightly and the sight makes you anxious.

"I remember how I used to come up with new names for the constellations when I was a kid because the real ones never made any sense to me", she then says and your head falls down in disappointment. But. What did you expect. Nothing's that easy.

You breathe easy, but the air tastes heavy in your lungs. "You didn't answer my question", you reply with one hand reaching up to run through your hair.

"I don't have an answer".

It´s not those words that make you look up again. It´s the sigh that follows them. Perhaps not even then. It's more likely the sudden frustration and the way she grabs the railing that makes you lift your gaze. When you look at her all you see is confusion, or is that what clouds your mind, and the way she leans forward as if the railing is the only thing keeping her up. That hurts. Because you've been there, still are considering who you brought as a plus one, and it hurts knowing that there´s something forcing her to feel weak. She´s far from weak.

"You know, when I found that note... I... I thought that I could hear my heart snap. I´ve missed you like crazy, Raven", you say and every word is a confession, is another jab at your heart and when her name evaporates off of your tongue your chest tightens.

"I´ve missed you too", she mumbles almost too low for you to hear, but you do. Oh you do. And that, that sends all the pain right back up to the surface and tears prick at the back of your eyes.

This is the moment you've feared. The one you've known that you can´t control. The one that will leave scars.

"I hurt you”. It takes all of your strength to not reach out, to not let those tears fall, to not give in to the need to be close to her. Just for a heartbeat. “I get that. But why... why did you have to leave?", you manage to get out.

Her shoulders sag. Her head falls down for a second and there's a tremble shooting through your body. Your fingers itch and the only satisfaction would be her warmth, her skin, her touch, the one thing you can't have without her permission.

"Clarke-".

"No, no _Clarke_. I want a real answer", you shoot and every word sends another wave of trembles through your limbs.

You watch her breathe. How her eyes return to the sky and even though you can only guess from where you´re standing, she's counting the stars by the way those lips move ever so slightly. It takes some time, more than you notice, before she breathes out heavily and answers, "I needed to get away".

"From what?!", you shout and maybe it´s not as much at her but at yourself.

"From you". There it is. The kill. The truth. The ugly and heart-breaking truth. The one that rings in your ears, jerking tears from the pit in your stomach, scorching your cheeks red with salt as those first tears fall and guilt settling in your chest. "I fell in love with the one person I´d let get close to me and I freaked out. I couldn't handle it anymore".

(The same aching pain is reflected in her eyes and that is why she keeps her gaze fixed at the sky.)

Licking your lips you give yourself a small chance to collect whatever strength you have left and the taste of your tears fills your mouth. "So leaving without saying anything to anyone was your only choice?".

"Yes. In that moment that was my only choice", she answers without a second going by, without her having to think about it. You are the only one that needs another moment to understand the weight of your question and the answer she gives. She tilts her head to the side and for a split second you think that she might look at you for the first time, but then her head falls back to its previous position. Her nails dig into the railing, scratching it, leaving lasting marks in the wood. "I don't expect you to understand it this but I did think that _you_ of all people would, though", she says and that voice of hers is hoarse and you don't want to hear it knowing that it isn´t caused by anything other than tears.

"Why?".

"Because you know how it feels like to lose yourself", she answers with a sigh. "I felt so incredibly lost but I needed to lose myself completely before I could come back from it and I couldn't do that here”. (You try your best to hear _here_ and not _you_.) “Since I was sixteen I've been putting on walls for everything, keeping myself out of reach to actually feel something and I couldn't do that anymore. So I left and I´m sorry if that hurt you, but I was hurting too", she finishes and you can't look away from her profile, even though it hurts more and more by every second.

The memory of her face inches from you, the taste of her lips still on your tongue and the thumping _need_ in your stomach washes over you. You kissed her and she wasn't yours to kiss, nor were you hers. Even if she initiated it, you did absolutely nothing to stop it or her. Or yourself. You were Finn´s and that didn't matter in that moment, you didn´t care if you were somebody´s or if she wasn't yours. Your actions that day was the last straw, the very last she needed to fall off the edge. You took what she had wanted for so long, without caring about anything but what you wanted it that moment. You didn´t care.

She was the bigger person. 

You hurt her.

"I agree with you", you mumble. In the corner of your eye you can see her head turn and those eyes finally taking you in, but your own are determined to stay on the stars shining high above you. "The sky is amazing".

You don´t care if she sees the tears.

\--

_5:12am_

You're awake. Frustratingly enough. 

The room is dark. It´s quiet apart from Lexa´s slight snoring next to you. You don't bother to shove her over onto her side to make her stop. It wouldn't help you with this sleeplessness anyway. Your body aches out of tiredness, both from behind up on your legs for as long as you were but mostly from the stress. Traces of that same stress still lingers in you, but they are no longer as prominent. Still, you can't for the love of your life fall asleep.

The party simmered down to a handful of people after the happy two left, whistles and howling following them all the way out of the hotel. Out of those people that stayed the only one you couldn´t take your eyes was also the one person who made your stomach flip. Not a coincidence. You kept to yourself though, with enough space between you to not feel her presence (who are you kidding though, she could have been half way through town and you´d still feel her close to you). After what happened on the patio your mind seemed to be set on driving you crazy. Crazy with every though of her. She laughed and you heard it, she talked and you listened, she cursed and a smile crept up to display over your lips. Yeah, distance and space didn't help when it came to her, not now, not ever. You stopped drinking even though Lexa prompted you to join her, but you were already close to throwing up by the aching feeling in your chest and mixing that feeling with alcohol wasn't an option. Lexa got _drunk enough_ after an hour and you praised the lord for her low tolerance to alcohol when you flung her arm over your shoulders.

You hurried through the goodbyes before dragging Lexa out of there.

(You didn´t turn around to have one last look, one last memory of her.)

(You didn't catch her eyes following you, slowly filling with sorrow, as you left.)

For as long as you remember you have never wanted to fade away as much as you did tonight. Losing your father made you angry, raging and explosive. Losing her the _first_ time made you confused and questioning. But, walking into Lexa´s apartment it hit you that this truly was the _second_ time you lost her. You felt it in your core when she talked about the stars, how she has already slipped out of your reach. 

It hit you and if you weren't out of tears you would have cried.

If you hadn´t been mourning her for a year already you would have broken all over again.

What it comes down to is that you never stopped being broken, so there wasn't anything left to break.

You sigh and throw the sheets off of your body, most of it landing on top of Lexa. She's still in deep sleep, only mumbles some nonsense before kicking once towards your side of the bed. You watch her in the darkness, her calm face and even breaths. She doesn't know, or you didn´t _tell_ her about the last conversation you had with Raven before she got significantly less present. Still, Lexa has never needed words to read you and certainly didn't need it tonight either. Surely, she'll ask in the morning and you will tell her everything. Perhaps she will tell you that it is for the best, that now everything has been said (just not _that_ ) and you can finally find closure. She will most definitely say it with confidence, but you already know that her eyes will look at you with empathy and pity.

Sleep does find you sometime later, but not until the sun has risen and casts its bright light in through the window. By then it's too late and your body is already humming to steady beat of your heart whispering the same sentence over and over again. Because if you´re not going to say it out loud it sure will let the words float through your veins as a constant reminder.

( _I love you. I love you. I love you_.)

\--

_9:00am_

This has practically become a routine. Lexa gets up before you, does her morning workout (which you tried once and never again, she might look gentle but that girl does some hard-core exercise), if you haven't woken up yet she gets you of bed before jumping in the shower, you get breakfast going (apart from the coffee because that is holy to Lexa, honestly). Which is why you are now sitting on top of the counter, chewing on some roasted bread, waiting for her to get out of the shower. Since she is most likely hungover, even though she won't own up to it, you've prepared bacon and scrambled eggs. All you really need is a cup of coffee and you're ready to go.

You're just about to devour another piece of toast when the doorbell goes off and you quirk an eyebrow in surprise, or annoyance. Who´s even up at this time a Sunday, apart from Lexa (which you don´t understand, that woman is a mystery to you still).

“Can you take that?”, Lexa yells to be heard over the running water from the bathroom.

You jump off the counter and wipes your hands messily on your pants, Lexa´s grey track pants to be correct that you steal every time you sleep over. You don´t spare yourself a second look in the mirror before opening the door thinking that it must be an annoyed neighbour or someone coming to complain about their water pressure.

“Hel- Costia?”, you take a step back to take in the full image of the woman clad in a black coat. 

She´s not caring anything other than a small purse and standing in front of you she looks like she's gotten just as much sleep as you did last night. Her deep brown eyes look at you with kindness, a small smile touching her lips before she speaks.

“Hi Clarke. Is she in?”.

You're still in shock and struggle to find your words. It's not until that deep gaze floats past you that you realize that the two of you are no longer alone.

“Costia?”.

You take a step to the side, now able to find the same shock on Lexa´s face. There are drops of water in her hair and a few running down her neck. She must have hurried out of the shower and into her clothes without more than messily drying her hair since her clothes stick to her body. She looks just as confused as you feel, probably even more considering the conversation they had yesterday. Or more like fight, at least that's what you gathered from Lexa´s drunk explanation of what happened.

“Hey”, comes Costia´s answer, soft and tender. You´ve only heard her voice over Skype once or twice before and even then you thought that she had a lovely voice. Seeing her in person wasn´t something you thought that you would do, like ever, and now standing right there in front of you she is and the first thought that hits you (apart from that first one, _what the hell_ ) is that you understand what Lexa meant when she said that the girl was breath-taking beyond belief.

“What are you doing here?”, Lexa asks and finally breaks the pressing silence. You step away from the door as she does and try your best not to look to intently at the other girl.

“I was sick of not seeing you”, Costia answers, followed by a deep sigh. She shrugs her shoulders and takes that small step over the threshold. “I miss you”.

“Costia”, the name is sweet coming from Lexa and you feel incredibly misplaced watching the two women falling into each other's embraces. You scratch awkwardly at the back of your head as you turn away at the sound of them kissing. 

“I should go”, you mumble as you reach for your jacket.

“No, no don't go. I mean it. Please stay and have breakfast with us”, Costa replies and you look from her to the other woman.

Lexa nods and you exhale, all of that awkwardness dying in that same breath. Perhaps it has changed now - she needs you this time. Through your friendship you've been the one that needs support, that needs to have someone there to listen and not to listen, on very few occasions has Lexa expressed that need. But looking at her now, even though a smile fills up her mouth her eyes tell you that there's more than happiness to deal with in this situation. You should have guessed considering the weeks that have passed and how little she has talked about the girlfriend in question, she didn't really talk about her to begin with and that's just Lexa´s nature but however little it used to be is became even smaller.

“Okay. I´ll get the coffee started”, you answer and walk back into the kitchen with a teasing smile on your lips, an attempt at distracting her from whatever´s going on inside her head just now.

It works.

“No you won´t. Clarke. Don't you dare touch the percolator!”.

\--

_2:48pm_

Getting home, Bellamy´s watching up dishes, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair up in a tiny ponytail.

You close the door shut behind you, spinning your keychain around your finger before dropping it into your pocket. You curse under your breath as you realizes it's the wrong pocket, the one with the whole in it, you contemplate about struggling to get it out now or leaving it. You leave it. You're already frustrated enough as it is, that won´t get any better so the future you can curse as much as she wants later but right now you don´t give a shit. You find Bellamy in the kitchen, washing dishes for once. The last time he did that must have been at Christmas. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing off that dagger he got tattooed covering most of his right forearm and his hair is up in the smallest bun you've ever seen. It looks ridiculous. But you're too tired to comment on it.

“Hi”, you exhale and his head turns to you. 

“Hey. There's leftovers from lunch if you want some”.

“I already ate”, you answer while thinking back at Costia´s arrival and the fact that you'll have to explain to Bellamy that Lexa has a girlfriend and that she is not you. Preferably before Octavia has a chance to do it and work him into bothering you about it. You'll have that conversation, just not today.

All you want to do is shut off your brain. And every other organ of your body that hurts.

“I'll be in my room”, you tell him as you leave the room.

“You do know, don't you?”.

Bellamy's voice draws you back in again and you watch him wipe his hands dry on the towel flung over his shoulder.

“Know what?”, you ask with a stern expression. You're really not up to playing around today, whatever he wants to say he will just have to say it now and get it over and done with.

He laughs quietly for a moment and you can't figure out if it's sarcastic or not. It´s for the best that you don´t know. “She's still in love with you, Clarke”, he says and the fact that he doesn't say her name stirs up that pain in your gut.

You feel the tension in your jaw for too late to realize that your whole body has gone stiff.

“That doesn´t matter now”, you say, rather to yourself than to him. Like you can convince yourself of that lie as well. “She's leaving, again. So obviously it doesn't matter if she´s… if she loves me or not”, you stutter over the word.

It feels wrong to claim that she still loves you. Even though Bellamy seems to think she still does. It´s not up to you to decide if it's true or not. It never was.

“I don't know. Maybe she just needs a reason to stay”, he says and shrugs his shoulders, he then turns back to dry the dishes and fill up the cupboards with them.

You don´t ask him what that means, to scared that if you open your mouth now everything you've been bottling up will come out in one long sentence, and you don't have the capacity to shove it all back in again.

More than ever before you really just want to shut down, sleep and start all over tomorrow. Tomorrow when it's far too late to even think of her again, because she'll be long gone. The door to your room opens with a creaking sound, you should really oil those hinges, and you practically moan when you step up to your bed to let yourself fall down onto it face first. A few hours, that is all you need. Some sleep and you´ll be ready to deal with the rest of today. With a grunt you roll over onto your back, hands already romaing down your shirt to pull it up so that you can crawl into bed. As you sit up to undress your eyes fall shut for a moment, when they open again they land on something. Something that shouldn´t be there, on your floor. It must be one of your notes from class, it probably slipped out of one of the notebooks yesteray when you turn the whole room up and down looking for the bracelet Octavia instructed you to wear. You grunt more clearly when you get up to retrieve the paper, you unfold it as you straighten up after leaning down.

You´re eyes flicker from one word to another. Over and over again. Until...

It hits you like the back of a hand splitting up your lip. And all you can do is exhale as your eyes read the words once more.

Déjà vu.

It´s just like last time. The same panic fills you, only this time it's not too late. Something shoots through you like a wildfire and you crumble up the note, lungs taking in another breath. You´re out of the room in seconds and you're throwing on your jacket and shoes messily before you slam the door to the apartment shut behind you.

This is not happening, is all you can think. You won´t let it.

//

_1:03am_

Marriage had not been one of those things you thought that you would experience. It´s not uncommon in your family to not marry. None of you cousins have chosen to tight the knot and proceeded to start families anyway. A ring and a piece of paper does not make a lasting relationship, that was your uncle's first reaction to you telling him that you had proposed to Octavia. He was right of course. You didn't want to marry her just for the ring or the paper, to know that you were bound to each other by law. The reason for why is simple - you wanted to take the leap, go the distance, give all of what you could possibly give to her. Maybe it hit you even before the two of you got involved, it's not unlikely, because since she became a part of your day to day life she's been one of the big constants. 

You observe in silence how Finn knocks over another glass on his way over from his table to the far end of the bar, away from everyone else. His eyes flicker around without fixating on anything for longer than a few seconds and when he opens his mouth to speak it hangs open for a short moment before he actually seems to say anything. You can´t hear him, don´t need to to know that he´s drunk. 

Beyond that drunk even, he´s wasted. 

Your childhood granted you many things, many abilities, all of which you've learned have helped you in your adult life. Growing up in a foster home was far from as tough and horrible as many seem to believe. Yes, you went from place to place until you eventually stood on the steps to Maoura and Luke Moore´s house. In a way they chose you and you them, and with them came a whole bunch of people who were willing to take you in and embrace you as family. However the many turns back and forth before you settled at the Moore´s taught you a thing or two about adapting (but never give up who you are) and perseverance, respect and cheer will.

It made you appreciate family, not the one you've been born into but the one you choose yourself.

Perhaps that is why you find yourself moving towards Finn, face swept clean from happiness for a moment, determined to make something right before it goes terribly wrong. He looks up at you when you stop beside him, hands down you pockets, sleeves rolled up to your elbows and eyes trained at him.

"You should go home", you tell him and he furrows his brows immediately.

"There's still a party", he argues and drags his finger along the rim of the glass of whisky standing in front of him.

You keep your eyes on him even though he no longer looks back at you. "I mean it, Finn".

"Come on, man. Don't be like that", he mumbles as he takes the glass and brings it up to his lips. 

Anger finds its way to your hands which quickly turns them into fists in your pockets. It´s not a fiery kind of anger, more of an aching one, one that has been building up for you don´t know how long. 

You might not have let it go yet (forgiven yes but not forgotten), but the look on Clarke's face reminded you of too many nights spent overhearing Octavia on the phone with Bellamy, discussing Clarke's current state or lack thereof.

You never want her to feel that pain again.

You never want to see that look of fear and worry on Octavia's face.

 _Never_.

You draw a breath as you turn around, giving Finn your back. " _Go_ ", you tell him and leave the anger with him.

\--

_1:55am_

The quiet is welcomed. After all these hours spent celebrating, dancing and cherishing in this day nothing feels more right than this quiet. And the woman in your arms.

Octavia sighs with contentment with her head on your shoulder. You pull her closer to your side, your heart swelling with love. The cab drives off down the street, leaving the two of you alone in front of the building. Your apartment. No. Your _home_. A careful hand caresses your chest, drawing your eyes down to the dark haired girl. She doesn´t stop the movement whilst the other hand reaches up to support under her head. Her eyes are out of reach, but not her heartbeat when you place a gentle kiss to her temple. It drums steadily and comforting.

“Are you happy?”, you ask with your lips brushing against her hair.

She hums in response before angling her head towards you. Her deep and brown eyes are lit up with a tender glow. Happiness radiates off her soft features and your struggle to keep your eyes on either of them for much longer than short moments before you've taken in all of her. The hand on your chest stills and as it does a full smile fills up her lips. 

“Yes”, she answers with a soft and assuring voice.

“May I kiss you, _wife_?”, you murmur in a whisper.

“You may, _husband_ ”.

Her lips against yours are heavenly. She draws the air out of your lungs leaving you breathless and desperate for more. With her bottom lip trapped between both of your lips you pull her body against yours, flushed together, your arms holding her tight against your chest with your arms fully around her back. The kiss lasts longer than you´d expected and when you break apart you can feel the thumping of your heart, just as desperate as your hands gripping at her sides.

“Now can you please get me inside before I combust right here and now”, she mumbles with those gorgeous lips still on yours.

She doesn't have to ask twice.

\--

_10:00am_

“You´re the best”, she whispers as you put down the tray on the nightstand. Her eyes quickly light up with joy and excitement even though she's just woke up. You seat yourself next to her, watching as she picks up a toast and sinks her teeth into it, a moan spilling out of her. It brings a smile to your lips and a fluttering feeling to your stomach.

“We should go tonight”, you say. She looks over at you, crumbles sticking to the jam around the corner of her mouth. You reach over to wipe it away but stop just before your thumb grazes over her skin. Instead you lean in and press a gentle kiss to her lips, your tongue reaching out to taste her and get rid of that sticky jam. She tastes of strawberries. Leaning back you notice the slight change to her eyes, the depth to them and how her bottom lip now is caught between her teeth. There´s time for that, you think for yourself. “Classes don't start until next week anyway. Let's take a few days just for us. Like a mini honeymoon”, you propose and she quickly puts down the toast on the tray again.

“I love you”, she replies and leans over to you.

“And I you”. 

Her kiss is soft and gentle, daring as her tongue brushes past your lips without pressing further. There will never be too much time, you think and smiles once she pulls away.

“When is Raven´s flight again?”.

“Six”, you answer and check the watch on the nightstand. It´s just a few minutes past 10 am. “She said she'd be here around three to get her stuff”.

“I can't believe she actually came”, Octavia mumbles with a genuine 

“I know. And now she's leaving again”

The dark haired woman look up at you again, this time with sadness flashing over those eyes. This day is going to be one of the harder ones, you know it. “Yeah”, her voice confirms your fear and you nod mostly to yourself.

After finishing up eating you just lay in bed together, playing with your rings, kissing even though neither of you can stop laughing after remembering Jasper and Monty´s dance from last night. This is the way it should be, you catch yourself thinking when she snuggles into your side as she reads the card of one of the wedding gifts your family bought you. This is how life should be - warm and happy.

She only leaves your side to pick up her phone when it goes off. She answers the call with a smile on her face, but it quickly fades and you watch as her eyes flicker from nowhere to somewhere else in front of her in confusion.

“Hang on. She´s not there? No she hasn´t come here. But when did she leave?”, she says and you sit up against the headboard frowning. Her eyes flicker towards you with distress in them.

“What´s going on?”.

“Raven´s gone”.

“She can't just disappear out of thin air”, you reply, hands already fumbling over the covers to retrieve your phone.

“Bell woke up and she wasn't there”.

“Has he tried her phone?”, you ask as you unlock your own and quickly scroll through your contacts until dialling her number.

She doesn't answer the first time. Nor the second. When you dial for a third time you are standing up, eyes searching for your car keys (which are in the bowl on the coffee table, like they should be) so that you can run out and jump into the car like you think that you can speed to the airport and get her back. That isn't necessary though, because after the sixth dialtone goes through you're met with that clicking sound.

 _“Isn't this a little early for you? I thought you'd be out of it today”_ , she answers with a laugh.

“Where are you?”, you ask with a stern tone. Octavia's eyes look at yours with suspense, she doesn´t say it but you know she's thinking it because you are too.

 _”Chester´s. Why?”_.

You close your eyes and exhale before nodding as if to yourself. “She's still here”, you say and Octavia passes on the message to Bellamy. “You made Bellamy think you´d left or something”, you explain as you move out of the bedroom.

_”Oh-okay. I´ll take a cab back”._

“Are you okay though?”, you have to ask to soothe your thoughts. Not that you really believed that she would just take off like that, again, but now when the thoughts are there in your head you just need to make sure that everything is as it should. You don't want any more surprises this weekend.

 _”Yeah, I think so”_ , she replies and then breathes out heavily. _“I'll see you later”_ , she says and hangs up before you have time to answer.

You look down at your phone, watch the screen go black. It's crazy how much that girl means to you and how much love you hold for her. Blood has never been strong to you, she definitely a proof of that. Octavia's off her phone as well when you return to the bed, but her eyes are shaded with the same worry crawling under your skin.

“Where was she?”.

A sigh rolls off your lips. “Chester´s”.

“That´s on the other side of town, Lincoln”, she then says and shakes her head slightly. You know the feeling. She wouldn't go there just for the thing of it. She said she was better, you think, she said that she wasn´t bother during the nights anymore.

“Yes, it is”, you reply absentmindedly and drop the phone onto the covers, your body follows as you slump down on the edge of the bed. She sounded sober, so that´s a good thing, but it doesn't really measure up to the worry of knowing that she's felt the need to retreat to a place like that.

Octavia brings you back to reality with soft hands and fingers gently pressing into your shoulders. It´s only when you look at her that you realize that she has scooted over to you.

“En´s ogud”, she whispers. Her fingers now tracing small patterns over your skin.

You hum in response. A warm smile spreading to your lips. She´s right. At least you should believe that it is okay for now. With her it is okay. 

\--

_3:18pm_

Picking up the last bag of Raven´s bags feels like giving up some of that hope. You wouldn't admit it out loud, but you had hoped that this weekend would lead to her considering staying for at least a little longer. But it´s like she said - she has other responsibilities now, some of which she can´t ignore any longer. You should be proud of her really and you are, but just today you feel a smidge let down. The phone rings with its familiar tone and you reach over to the coffee table to snatch it before it goes to voicemail. You glance over the name on the caller before putting the phone to your ear, the other hand readjusting your grip of the bag.

“Clarke?”.

 _”Where is she?”_.

You stand back up straight as you take a second look around to make sure Raven has got all her stuff with her. “Who?”, you answer absentmindedly.

 _”Raven. Do you know where Raven is?”_ , the voice of the blonde woman is rushed and heavy.

“She's here, she's just getting ready to leave for the airport”, you reply and nod a little to yourself when you've checked the room. She goes quiet on the other end, besides her breathing you can´t hear anything else. And then not even that. “Clarke?”. There's no answer so you check the screen but it only tells you that the call ended.

“Who was it?”, Octavia asks as she steps out of the bedroom, hands busy putting her hair up.

“Clarke. She hung up on me”, you say with a frown.

“Weird. Did she say what she wanted?”.

“She wanted to know if Raven was here. She sounded really out of breath”, you explain. You´re expecting a response, at least her humming or something, so when she doesn't say anything at all she draws your attention to herself. You find her frozen in what looks like a state of total confusion. “O?”, you try but there´s nothing. Then a smile fills up her lips and she shakes her head slowly. You fling the bag over your shoulder, one brow hitched when she looks back at you. “Octavia, what do you know?”, you ask and she only scoffs.

“Nothing. That's the thing, I know nothing”.

“I don't get it”.

She hums to that and points at you. “Yeah, yeah me too”, she answers as she passes you on her way out the door.

“What”.

There's no logic to any of what just happened. But you don't have time to analyse it, less time to question it because she's already out the door and the watch on your wrist tells you it’s time.

On the street Raven’s observing as the cabdriver fling her stuff into the trunk. Octavia has her arms around the other woman’s waist, her chin on the older one´s shoulder whilst mumbling something inaudible. Raven replies with a simple “yes” before she turns and takes the younger one into her arms.

You watch time in silence. You're not the only one who feels like you're losing something, at least this time you get the chance to say goodbye. That's more than anyone got the last time. Raven's dark eyes shoot up to meet yours, shaded with that familiar tiredness you remember from the months she spent trying to let go off those unwavering emotions. You won't ask her about it. Not today. Not now. There will come a time when she'll be strong enough to bring it up herself and you'll be right here waiting for her.

The two women let go of each other and you join them after shoving the last bag into the trunk.

“We'll see you soon, yeah?”, Octavia asks and you join her as she locks her eyes on Raven.

“Yes”, she says with a hint of a smile on her lips. She doesn't look as... sad as before. She might look tired, but there's a light behind those dark eyes up close, almost as if there´s something new about her. When her eyes fully meet yours you know, maybe not in the way that makes you heart feel less heavy or your mind cleared of the worry for her, but in the way that sparks a little bit of hope in you. She's okay. “I promise”, she tells you and you know for sure now - something is different.

She always fulfils her promises.

You take her into your arms one last time, holds her tight and fully.

“I promise”, she repeats against the crook of your neck and you nod as you let go.

She gets in the cab before either of you say anything else, maybe there's nothing left to say. It´s sad to see her go and even though you know you´ll see her again there's nothing for her here anymore. Nothing indicates that she'd would chose to come back even if she declines that offer to take over the club. And the longer time she spends away from the people that care for her the more she changes, for the better of course, but she'll also notice that the world has so more to offer her if she'd just take the chance.

Both you and Octavia watch the car, waiting for that inevitable moment when it will turn around the corner of the street. Only. It has barely signalled for a turn when a voice reaches the both of you. No. Not a voice. A familiar scream. The next thing you know something light appears in the corner of your eye. 

Clarke.

She comes rushing down the street, not stopping to even spare either of you a look. 

“Raven!”.

Her voice cares the dark haired girl´s name down the street. It takes another second and then the backlights of the cab flashes bright red. It pulls to a stop. When you see Raven slipping out of the backseat you feel Octavia´s hand reaching for yours and she clutches to your hand desperately. All you can do is hold on to her just the same as the two of you watch almost as if the next minute plays like a movie.

Clarke stops in front of the other woman. Hair messy and with a heaving chest. The dark haired woman expression is hard to read even for you, one part of you thinks that she looks relieved and the other that she looks completely afraid. Maybe it's both. They talk, the blonde one unable to stand still for more than a few seconds at a time whilst the other stands right where she stepped out of the car. Whatever Clarke´s saying it causes Raven´s cheeks to flash red and reach up to run a hand through her hair, only it´s up in that ponytail of hers so the arms slumps back to her side. It´s then you notice Clarke´s hands or rather her _hand_ and what's in it.

She's clutching a crumpled up piece of paper.

What happens next chocks you the most. Raven moves for the first time, taking a quick step towards the other woman, erasing the distance between them as she pulls her into her arms. They just hold each other in that tight embrace for what feels like hours but really passes by in seconds. When they finally let go Raven reaches up and wipes her face with the back of her hand, a motion you haven't seen for a very long time. Some part of you still waits for the curtain to drop or for them both to go off, but instead they only look at each other.

And then Raven gets back into the cab. But. Her hand reaches out through the still open door and Clarke takes it in hers before sliding into the backseat as well. The car starts to move only a split second later and disappears around the corner.

The next thing you know Octavia pulls out her phone and angles the screen towards you to see as well.

**Raven (3:39pm): It's okay**

For the first time in a very long time you believe it too.

It´s okay.

\-----

_I'm sorry. Let me pick you this time?  
/R_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you survived the angst, if you´d like to get a little bit of fluff let me know in the comments! Like always you can find me on inspiration-feeds-creatiivity.tumblr.com or check out #bff au

**Author's Note:**

> find me on inspiration-feeds-creatiivity.tumblr.com or follow #bff au


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